


right now i'm completely defenseless

by vanessamary



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:30:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6098946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanessamary/pseuds/vanessamary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cheshire Academy is said to be the best summer music camp in Britain and Louis Tomlinson thought he didn’t have a chance in hell of getting in. Louis auditioned for the pianist group but once the instructors found out that he had personally composed the song he played at his audition, they switched him into composition. People who excelled at the Academy went on to work with pop stars - Louis even heard a bloke from last summer got to work with Robbie Williams while some have even managed to get into the London Symphony. For a lad from Doncaster, that didn’t sound half bad. If only he could just focus on his performance and not what happened last summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	right now i'm completely defenseless

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to first apologize because I didn't have a Brit-picker this time round so I hope I ironed out all the colloquialisms and quirks that come along with being a young lad from the north whilst sitting in my house in Canada :P 
> 
> Second, a big thanks to Sonja (veronicahauge on ao3 or adifferentkindofson on tumblr) because she always encouraged me throughout my writing process even when it looked like I was never going to finish. Also a MASSIVE thanks to Chantille (hellochantilly on tumblr) for editing it and reminding me that I SET IT IN PRESENT TENSE FFS.
> 
> Third, as is with big bang fics I had the lovely time to collab with Ashleigh for the art that coincides with my fic. She has made the photoset that follows this note as well as a soundtrack to go along with the fic, which you can find here: http://8tracks.com/sa_voix/to-make-your-heart-remember-me
> 
> Thanks and happy reading (: xx

 

**right now i’m completely defenseless**

 

“Mum, you need to let go of me, this is getting proper embarrassing now.”

The air is cool around the courtyard and Louis suppresses a shiver when it slips through the thin material of his clothing. Despite his words, Louis tucks his face into the crook of his mum’s neck and hugs her tighter. Since the first time, when Louis was only thirteen years old, his mum would hug him tight for at least ten minutes before letting him scurry off. Louis doesn't mind, being a bit soft himself; even though he had begged his mum to let him come to the prestigious Cheshire Academy, it always left a hollow feeling in his stomach when he watched his mum drive away. He gets over it soon enough, with the laughter of his mates sucking him in and the promise of whats to come over the summer. 

Since his music instructor at school in Donny had handed him a brochure on Cheshire Academy all those years ago, Louis knew that this was going to be his ticket out. Chesire Academy is said to be the best summer music camp in Britain and Louis Tomlinson thought he didn’t have a chance in hell of getting in. His voice wasn't _that_ great nor were his skills at the piano but he auditioned anyway, months of courage built up by his sisters and mum. He had auditioned for the piano sector of the camp but once the instructors found out that he had written the music and lyrics he played at his audition, they switched him into composition. He loves playing piano though and finds time in between the courses to fiddle around on the various key instruments the Academy has stocked up. 

“Mum, I really need to go. God knows, Styles has already started lighting incense in the room and it smells like lavender and cherries.”

His mum finally pulls back, arms falling from around his neck as she smiles at him a bit watery. Louis lets out a playful sigh of exasperation. _Every bloody summer._

“I’m not going off t’war mum, it’s just camp. _Music_ camp, even.”

“I know, love,” she replies, dabbing under her eyes a bit and laughing at herself. “I’m just a worrier, me. I’ll get over it.”

She steps back and wipes at her eyes once more which makes Louis’ eyes sting a little and he blinks quickly before anyone around them sees. He hears his mum mumble about smearing her makeup and wipes the tips of her fingers across her skin while shining a bright smile at Louis. He really is going to miss his mum. He creeps in for one more hug and smushes a kiss against her cheek before telling her goodbye and promises a thousand times to call and text. From experience, Louis knows watching the car make its way out of the camp lawn will cause his nose to itch and his throat tighten so he quickly looks away and runs a hand over his slightly too long hair.

He slings his dufflebag over his shoulder and picks up the rucksack by his feet, eyes scanning the front lawn of the estate for the familiar faces of his mates. He sees no one familiar enough to garner banter and a chat so he continues his way up the well-manicured path. They'll probably just meet them at tea and orientation in the canteen. At this point in his friendship with the lads, Louis knows them pretty well enough to know what they're all up to right now. Liam will want to organize his sock drawer the minute he finds his room number, Zayn will probably follow him there and kip the moment Liam unlocks the door, while Niall and Harry wander around and find new mates with penchants for singing folk music or weird hobbies (like last year Niall met a girl who liked to collect Polly Pocket memorabilia).

Before he puts a foot on the front steps of the Academy, Louis hears an all too familiar laugh that creeps up his spine. To his left next to a large, black SUV is none other than Louis’ arch-nemesis Nick Grimshaw.  Wearing a black Nike shirt and ripped black skinny jeans that Louis rolls his eyes at , he talks loudly and obnoxiously into his probably brand new iPhone about some wanky festival he went to before coming to the Academy. Grimshaw started coming to Cheshire Academy three years ago and even fifteen-year-old Louis knew he was a massive wanker from the moment the boy’s brown Chelsea boots stepped down on the Academy lawn. Despite minor transgressions last summer, his opinion hadn't much changed despite the fact that he couldn't really look away from the casual stretch of his body as he smiled about something the person on the other end said.

Louis didn’t realize he had been staring intently at the way Grimshaw folded his legs over on another or the mesmerizing gesticulation of his hands but the next time he looked up at Grimshaw's face, his gaze caught Louis’. In an excellent example of his twatishness, Grimshaw raises a hand, twiddling his long fingers in a mocking wave and Louis narrows his eyes, a panic seizes his chest and a flush creeping up his neck. Shaking his head and readjusting the strap of his bag, Louis pushes through the small crowd of people by the doors and heads into the Academy foyer for registration and room assignment. The last thing he needed was for Grimshaw to know that he remembers what happened last summer.

\--

 

His first night at the Academy, Louis was terrified. It was his first time away from home for an extended period of time without his mum being a few blocks away and predictably, he didn’t know how to deal. He laid in his bunk, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t start crying - ‘cause it’s bad enough he’s _missing his mum and sisters_ but to start crying on top of it all? - when the boy next to him flops onto his bed with a smile. 

He was lanky, all thin arms and long legs with curly and what looks like a semi-permanent grin plastered on his face. He introduced himself without prompt before chatting about the most random shite all the while grinning like Louis listened to his stories all the time. A couple of times Louis even laughed at something the curly-haired boy said, eyes crinkling and worries pushed to the back of his mind. And then, Harry stopped talking and placed a gentle hand on Louis’ shoulder, murmured a goodnight and went to his bunk.

After that first night, he and Harry were inseparable. Harry was kind and thoughtful and very very weird but his calm energy balanced out Louis’ constant need to be doing or saying something. Meeting Harry had reminded Louis of who he was and a homesick crybaby wasn’t it. After that night into the following weeks at the Academy, Louis fell back into himself, raising hell in his courses while still managing to compose pieces so eccentric, his instructors let his clownishness pass.

By now his instructors were used to his antics, solely rolling their eyes and telling him to shut his gob before continuing the lesson, knowing he was going to give it his all. Nothing meant more to him than doing well at The Academy. People who excelled at the Academy went on to work with pop stars - Louis even heard a bloke from last summer got to work with _Robbie Williams_ while some have even managed to get into the London Symphony. For a lad from Doncaster, that didn’t sound half bad.

His instructors have been telling him year after year that if he keeps practicing and working on his vocals as well as his fingerwork, he could get scouted as early as sixteen. He’s eighteen now and it hasn’t happened yet, scouts leaving after every concert without a glance at him but Louis believes that this year will his year. He’s been practicing non-stop all summer and he’s got the aches to prove it.

Liam has been telling him to take it easy - which is saying something coming from him, Louis’ never met anyone more dedicated to his work than Liam - but he can’t really see passed the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. He remembers when he met Liam in his second year and taking the piss out of all the times Liam used to bail on parties or plans to work on his fingerwork or  memorizing his finale piece by heart.

Now, Liam is the one ribbing him when he says no to something in order to practice. But Liam also has another year at the Academy, another year to fix any mistakes he makes this year. Louis doesn’t have that. Louis’ got one last chance.

“Lou?”

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by Zayn who is waving a small baggie in front of his face, a silent question that has become a start of summer tradition. The five of them bound down to the lake - which is really more like a large pond than a lake to be honest - and stuff themselves inside the bushes alongside the water’s edge to light up. They would stay there for hours, long after the spliff has been burnt out and the effects have sunk in, just hanging off each other and talking about things that happened last summer. Harry somehow always ends up semi-nude and in the lake-pond without fail, claiming the weed makes him feel claustrophobic so he has to take his kit off.

This time Louis finds himself uncharacteristically quiet as he wraps his lips around the spliff, the sweet smoke lifting slowly into the summer air. He listens as Harry talks about the performances from Eurovision this year, large hands waving in front of him with the spliff hanging on for dear life as he mumbles about how hot Sweden was during his performance despite the fact that he voted for Latvia. He takes the final drag before the roach is useless and tosses it into the lake-pond.

“Who even votes in Eurovision ‘sides me nan tho?” Niall asks, running a hand through his blonde hair.

“Oi, I’ll have you know loads of people still vote in the Eurovision,” Harry exclaims, looking to Zayn and Liam for back-up but finds them huddled together talking about the new Batman movie instead. He shakes his head in annoyance, curls tumbling over his cheeks.

“Lou,” he continues, crawling over the grass to where Louis is sitting with glassy eyes. “Lou, you’re on my side right?”

“Hmmm?”

“You thought Sweden was hot too right?”

“Haz, I haven’t got the foggiest what yer on about, so probably not.”

“Eurovision!” He says louder than he meant, hands coming up to cover his lips as his eyes go comically wide. Louis lets out a surprised giggle at that and copies Harry’s hands which causes both of them to burst out laughing, falling against each other as they do so. It’s times like these that Louis wonders why he couldn’t have fallen for his best friend instead.

Not that he’s _fallen_ for Nick Grimshaw. Gross. He’s just, apparently,  really into making out with skinny know-it-alls. Just the one time, though, he reminds himself. Which then leads him to remember last summer and promptly stop laughing altogether, sitting back up and causing Harry to fall into the grass.

He really needs to stop thinking about him.

“Alright?” Zayn interjects, noticing Louis’ sudden silence from where he’s sitting with Liam.

It takes Louis a second to hear him, plastering a soft smile on his face in reassurance before nudging Zayn playfully. “‘Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got me mates and the best weed the north of England has to offer!”

“Which isn’t saying much!” Zayn laughs and reaches over to where Niall is lighting up another spliff, prying it from his fingers  to take a long, deep drag. “British weed ain’t got nothin’ on that Canadian shit I had over Christmas hols, thought I was floating mate, it was sick!”

“Wouldn’t know _mate_ ,” Niall replies, crawling up to Zayn’s side to reclaim his stolen spliff. “You didn’t invite us didja?”

Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of water splashing and they all turn around to see Harry’s clothes by the bank of the lake-pond. Louis rolls his eyes at Harry’s predictability but also at the effort it’s going to take to get the curly-haired boy back out.

“Aw c’mon Haz, not again!” Niall bellows. They all try and call Harry back to the grassy edge but he ignores them, lying flat on his back along the surface of the lake-pond. Thankfully, he’s kept his pants on this time.

Niall’s hands claw at his t-shirt to go in after Harry since it’s his turn while Louis and the other boys just sit and watch. Since it kept happening, they devised a clever way to decide who would have to fetch him out of the lake-pond each year - they played rock paper scissors and Niall lost three out of three. Liam lets out a loud laugh when Niall belly flops into the water and flails over to where Harry is still serenely floating in the center.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Zayn murmurs next to him, quiet enough that Liam doesn’t hear on his other side. “ Somethin’ the matter?”

Louis tenses, wondering if it’s written all over his face. Wonders if the words ‘ _i got off with nick grimshaw’_ were blazing across his forehead like the blush painting his cheeks. He wonders if he should just tell Zayn and the others, tell them it was a one-off and that he still thinks Grimshaw is a self-obsessed hipster twat.

“Lou?” Zayn calls, noticing Louis falling deeper into his thoughts, which isn’t really helping the whole ‘fool Zayn into thinking everything is okay’ plan he was trying out.

Attempting to play it cool, Louis pushes out a laugh and rubs a hand over his warm face. “Yeah, Zee, m’alright. ‘Cept for this stank weed you brought us, I’m already soberin’ up.”

Louis watches Zayn slowly smile, warily watching Louis before shaking his head and jokingly apologizing, promising to get some better shit from his cousin next week. He tries to squash down the guilt, knowing Zayn is just worried about him but he can’t exactly tell them the truth, can he? It’s not like anyone would believe it anyways.

No, the best thing to do is keep quiet and move on. Grimshaw probably isn’t having these internal dilemmas every day. He’s probably already put it behind him, probably found some other mug to fall for his stupid charming laugh or the way he runs his fingers through his quiff before leaning in to kiss them. Louis blinks rapidly and runs a hand over his mouth, eyes flicking over to the lake-pond where Niall had finally latched onto Harry and started dragging him to the shore. He’s going to get over this, but until then at least he has his mates to jump into lake-ponds half naked to distract him.

\--

 

Louis thought that after knowing Harry Styles for years, nothing could shock him. He was very very wrong.

“You did _what_?”

Harry puts on his ‘placating Louis’ face and it only makes him more irritated, he’s even got his hands propped on his hips like when his mum is in a proper strop. He stuffs his hands into his trouser pockets to get rid of that image but continues to glare at Harry.

“It’s not a big deal, Lou,” he says calmly, falling back onto his single bed with his arms folded under his head. “I just told Grimmy and his mates to join us in the canteen.”

“Why the bloody hell would you do that?” Louis screeches, his voice hitting decibels his vocal instructor would cringe at.

Harry flicks his eyes over to Louis who has begun pacing up and down the small dormitory they share and Louis can see him shake his head but he ignores it. What was Harry thinking? He can’t have his tea while Grimshaw is making terribly pretentious jokes a couple seats down from him. He might not get all his food down at that rate.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is, you won’t even have to talk to him.”

“But he’ll be there, with his stupid hair and - and being all _hipster_ and whatever.”

“What’s really going on, Lou? You’re being a smash overdramatic, even for you.”

He knows Harry’s right, is the thing. He knows his hands are shaking and his voice is getting squeakier as he thinks about Grimshaw in the same room as him. The idea of him being close enough to talk to, close enough to _touch_ , close enough to -- Nope, he is not going there! They were going to forget it ever happened. That’s what they agreed on.

Except Louis can’t.

He remembers every detail of what it felt like to have Grimshaw’s lanky body cover his, how gentle his hands were despite the way his teeth nipped at Louis’ lips as they both fought to control such an uncontrollable situation. How he kept his eyes on Louis’ face as he came, as if he didn’t want to miss a single second flooding Louis’ veins with fire.

He remembers every last detail, where they were - backstage at the end-of-Summer concert in a cupboard of a makeshift dressing room - and how it happened - he was riling Louis up after his performance until he couldn’t take it anymore and had to shut him up. He also remembers the constant tightness in his chest dissipating as Nick - no, _Grimshaw_ \- wrapped his long fingers around Louis’ wrist to pull him closer.

But the thing is Louis also remembers Grimshaw pulling back and wiping his mouth, staggering out of the dressing room without a second glance at Louis who had sunk down to the ground.  And maybe the feeling of rejection had replaced that tight ball of anxiety in his chest until all he could focus on this summer was practising for the scouts this year. If he didn’t have to think about what it felt to be left alone in that room with second-hand costumes hanging around him and the sting of tears in his eyes then he would take bloody fingers and a hoarse voice over it any day.

“Lou?”

Louis snaps himself back to the present, blinking the wetness from his eyes and smiling at Harry who has this concerned look on his face. He’s having none of that. He brushes a hand over his hair, fluffing it up near the front and shaking the sorrow from his head.

“Sorry Hazza, lost the plot for a mo’. What were you on about?” He asks as if a dark cloud hadn’t just sat on his head, his sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Harry doesn’t seem to be buying it so Louis bounds over to his side of the dorm and jumps on top of him, elbows catching ribs and laughter sinking into skin. He climbs up Harry’s bed, ignoring the curly-haired boy’s yelps of protest until they’re lying side by side.

“You’re going to tell me what’s the matter sooner or later, you know that right?” Harry mumbles, smushing his face into Louis’ shoulder until he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck to pull him close.

“I know,” Louis replies. “But for now, blissful ignorance!”

He feels Harry sigh against his skin in mock-annoyance but then feels him smile and shift up a little to look Louis in the eye. He can tell by the set of Harry’s brow that a bad joke is coming his way and he braces himself.

“Are you gonna be part of the problem or are you the solution?” Harry asks, trying not to giggle as Louis lets out a groan.

“Haz, you _need_ to stop watching Wet Hot American Summer.” He replies and they both start laughing, remembering the first time Harry had watched the film a couple years ago and wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks until Louis made him move into Niall’s dorm for a week. "I mean it's not even that funny, for Chrissake!"

Harry gasps and nudges his side in revenge before letting out a laugh and settling back into his side. They lie there for a bit in the quiet, their breathing lining up as Louis realizes just how lucky he is to have Harry Styles in his life. When a knock comes at their door, Harry slowly gets up to answer it and Louis stretches out on the bed before getting up himself. He’s running a hand over his hair to try and smooth it out when he hears that unmistakable drawl of Grimshaw’s and freezes.

He hears Grimshaw ask Harry what’s taking him so long and Harry’s mumbled reply that he was waiting for Louis.

“Of course it’s because of Tomlinson,” Grimshaw shoots back which makes Louis jump off the bed and sidle up to Harry’s side. Harry hunches down a bit when Louis’s by his side, as if to match him in height which is both sweet and insulting, so Louis tucks his chin over Harry’s shoulder with a smirk on his face.

“Talking about me again, Grimshaw?” He quips, pushing down the flutter in his stomach as his gaze catches on Louis’. “You ought to get over this little obsession you’ve got with me, it’s getting _quite_ embarrassing.”

Grimshaw scowls and something inside Louis shouts with glee when he opens his mouth to reply. Grimshaw shuts his gob after glancing at Harry and it’s only then that he notices Harry has gotten fairly tense. Instead of goading Grimshaw into yet another verbal fight, he pushes away from Harry and gives the curly-haired boy a nudge out the door.

“Go on ahead, Hazza, I’ll catch up in a mo’.”

Harry looks over his shoulder, confusion wrinkling his brow, “Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting till you’re ready.”

“Naw, you know me, takes me ages to find me kit,” Louis says with a self-deprecating laugh and a flourish of hands. “Socks all over the place, tie hanging from the lamp, it’s madness. ‘Sides, Rita will have my head if i’m not in proper clothes again.”

Still frowning, Harry nods his head slowly but makes his way out the door with a ‘see you soon, Lou’ over his shoulder. He doesn’t notice the way Grimshaw smirks at Louis behind his back with a mocking wave of his fingers.

“Yeah, see you soon, _Lou_.” He says as he closes the door behind himself, voice deep as he slowly draws out each word as if he knows the effect his voice has on Louis.

He does, Louis thinks. He _does_ know the effect it has on Louis. Used it last summer to coax him into an orgasm that nearly made him black out. _Oh god_ . Louis falls back against the door, hand coming up to cup his mouth in horror as he realizes that he’s given Grimshaw the greatest ammo ever. He knows what Louis sounds like when he comes, how much Louis wanted it, probably knows how much Louis _still_ wants it.

He is so so fucked.

\--

Unfortunately, he managed through lunch with Grimshaw and his mates well enough that Harry insisted they all eat together for the rest of the summer. Louis didn’t have the heart to say anything at the time but he does plan on bringing up the absurdity of the idea later this week whenever he can tear his best friend away from that beanpole hipster.

For now, Louis is ignoring Grimshaw’s presence altogether and focusing on his mates and the incredible summer he had planned when he was stuck in Donny with his other mates. It’s not that he _hates_ his mates back home - he’s known Stan since he was five, so he’s a lifer - but he doesn’t feel like he’s really being himself when he’s with them either. Only Stan knows he’s gay and that he actually wants to study music when he goes to uni unlike his other mates who just want him around for footy matches and to rate the fittest girls at their college. It’s freeing, being at the Academy, and Louis wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Not even if it meant not having to see Grimshaw every day.

Louis shares his first class of the week with Grimshaw and his mates, as well as the lads, because the Academy requires one general course alongside all the focus courses. So once a week, he will have to endure being in the same room as Grimshaw - aside from meals, which he will put a stop to as soon as possible. He doesn’t really mind the course, it’s really just a bit of music theory, composition, sight reading; once in awhile they switch it up and practice harmonizing and the like which Louis enjoys.

It’s also in this course that they get sorted into their groups for the end of summer performance, which is why Louis is on one side of the room with Harry, Liam, Niall, and Zayn and Grimshaw is on the other with his posh knobhead friends Daisy, Henry, Aimee, Gillian, and Douglas.

Okay, so Daisy is super nice and lets him borrow her hairspray for shows and Douglas is a good lad to chat about the football but the rest are knobheads! Though, Aimee and Gillian did help it out with that one project last summer and Henry is always good for a laugh. Fine, his friends are lovely but Grimshaw, _he is a posh twat_.

Rochelle claps her hands at the head of the classroom to get their attention, quickly going over everyone’s improvements and spots they need to work on before getting to the main reason she’s holding that clipboard. Louis subconsciously moves forward in his seat, his teeth already gnawing on his bottom lip. Rochelle used to be in a massive pop group a few years ago that had several number one hits but after settling down with her husband and having a kid, she spends her summers at the Academy and the rest of the year recording smaller, more soulful albums that do alright. She doesn’t seem unhappy, Louis thinks. He’d never be able to do that though - have his taste of success and throw it away for _domesticity_.

“I’ve split you up into groups,” Rochelle says, clipboard in hand and eyes on the class. “I’ve managed to make sure every group has at least someone knowledgeable in music production and composition so no one is left in the dark. Though you may have multiples of vocalists as there’s just too many of you buggers.”

He hopes that this year Rochelle finally gives him what he wants. Every year he’s asked for the lads to be in his group and sometimes he’ll get Liam or Niall with him but usually they like to split them apart because they think Louis works better without a distraction. The thing is Louis works better with his mates by his side. They’re a team, working off one another and sharing their skills to make music that sounds right. The scouts will finally call on him this year but he needs his mates first.

Rochelle starts calling out names and the correlating group they’ve been sorted into, starting with the vocalists in the course.

Louis couldn’t help but glance over at Grimshaw’s group of friends who started to whisper to each other. He vaguely remembers that Henry is also into production like Grimshaw which means they’re probably going to be split up. He should feel a little shame at the gleeful feeling in his gut at the idea of Grimshaw not being in the group show with his mates but he doesn’t. He can almost picture the despair on his face when he’s stuck with Michael and his dickhead friends or that one girl who stares at Zayn every summer without ever speaking to him.

Harry and Zayn are placed into group D and the list of vocalists finishes up and Rochelle starts in on the producers, leaving Liam in group D as well. Louis grips the arm of his chair in anticipation, seeing the three of them smile at each other when their names are called together. Grimshaw’s mate Henry gets put in group A and Louis watches as Grimshaw’s smile dims a little as Douglas gets placed into group A as well, the dark-haired boy giving Grimshaw a sympathetic look.

Louis watches as Grimshaw blows Douglas a kiss in return with crinkly eyes and a small laugh and it makes something twist in Louis’ stomach. He shakes his head at the intrusively jealous thoughts flying around his brain before focusing back on Rochelle who is saying Grimshaw’s name.

“Nick,” Rochelle starts, the lanky boy looking away from his friends and up at her. “You’re to be in group D as their producer, Leigh-Anne you’re gonna join the lads in group A…”

Louis tunes out at that, vision going red at the idea of _Nick bloody Grimshaw_ with his mates in the end of summer show. This can’t be happening! First, he steals Harry away from him, then he makes Louis come harder than he ever has _in his life_ , and now he has the gall to take Louis’ shot at impressing the music scouts. Now he’s never going to get his chance to wow the scouts and he’ll never get out of Doncaster and he’ll never meet and work with famous musicians and his life will be over and --

“Louis, love, you’re going to join your mates in group D - ”

“I’m gonna what?” Louis blurts out, interrupting Rochelle’s next words.

She narrows her eyes at him, mouth opening to repeat the same tirade about how he constantly interrupts her but he beats her to it. With a quick wave of his hand, Louis says, “Yeah yeah I know, don’t interrupt the instructors but Rochelle did you _really_ say I’m in with the lads for the end of summer show?”

He doesn’t want to sound as hopeful as he is but he can’t help it because it seems that maybe, just maybe, something is going to work out for him this time ‘round. Rochelle gives him an unimpressed look with a hand on her waist as she rolls her eyes at him.

“Yes, Louis,” she says with a sigh. “I said I had to distribute the composers and producers evenly didn’t I? You’re luck’s just finally rung in I guess.”

The fond look she sends him negates her less impressed words and Louis knows she did it on purpose so he could have the lads with him for his last year. He can’t wait to hear what Zayn and Harry do with his lyrics, what Niall does on the guitar and what Liam produces with Louis’ composition is going to be _magical_. The lads all circle in on him, patting his back and squeezing his shoulder as they revel in the idea that they get to finally work together towards something great.

Rochelle claps her hands together again - the only way she knows to get their attention - and tells them all to move into their groups for the last little bit of the course to discuss meetups and practices alongside all the other practicing they have to do for everything else. Louis smiles at Harry until he sees Grimshaw walk over his best friend and put a hand on his shoulder before grabbing the chair next to him and plopping down.

It’s then that Louis realizes through the cloud of euphoria that Rochelle had called out Grimshaw’s name and put him in group D.

Shit.

\--

 

Louis is greeted at half-eleven on Saturday morning by Harry trying to push him off the bed and Niall smiling down at him. They tell him something about practising and pools but he doesn’t really comprehend it until he’s in the canteen and downed two cups of Yorkshire. Niall is sat across from him with Harry and the other lads spread around them, faces down in their plates as they eat as much as they can before they head out.

“So you’re telling me that you twats have woken me up on a Saturday to play music in an empty pool?”

Niall’s smile grows as he speaks, hands spread out in front of him as he begins to explain the story of how he heard Walliams telling Simon that they had to drain the pool for renovations in Autumn and it would be off limits to campers for the summer.

“You know what that means, Tommo!”

Louis looks over at Niall over the top of his mug blankly.

“It means we have the best practice spot in the whole camp cos none of those other twats will risk getting a talking to from ol’ Simon.”

“And why is practicing in a pool a good thing?” Louis is being difficult on purpose but Niall also woke him up at arse o’clock on a weekend so he kind of deserves it.

Niall just groans and mumbles ‘forget it’ before shoving a piece of toast in his mouth. The rest of breakfast is uneventful since half the camp is still asleep - the only time their instructors let them do so - and they soon make their way out to the back of the Academy. Louis made sure to grab his mini keyboard and notebook in case inspiration struck - who knows maybe Niall has a point? - though he doubts he’ll need it.

\--

 

Louis is lying on the edge by the deep end with one leg dangling into the empty pool and the other stretched across the concrete. The sun is peeking through the clouds every so often, threatening a beautiful summer day for lounging and Louis doesn’t plan on moving much. The Academy emptied out the pool just in the first few days of camp because a few campers got rashes from high levels of chlorine. The lads decided to hijack it as their new practice spot since the acoustics sounded ace.

Though, what Louis actually plans on doing is moaning about his doomed love life. Feelings about a certain beanpole aside, Louis would like to get some at some point this summer since his prospects back home aren’t exactly booming. It’s not like any of the others are actually working either.

Zayn is riding up and down the length of the pool on his longboard with a cigarette dangling between his lips, shouting out ideas for their project every time he makes it back down to the deep end. Liam is genuinely trying to work, borrowing Louis’ mini keyboard to practice his fingerwork as Harry lies on the pool ground like a starfish.

“Why aren’t there any gay people at this god forsaken camp?” Louis groans, covering his face with his forearm.

“Like yer t’only queer person at this camp, Tommo.” Niall bellows across the pool, grin on his face as he tries to tune his guitar. “It’s _music_ camp for chrissake!”

“Yeah, Lou. I mean there’s me for starters.” Harry drawls from his spot in the deep end where he’s braiding his hair. “And that bloke Breslin from instrumental is bi, i think.”

Louis frowns over at Harry, opening his mouth to refute that Niall Breslin is ten feet of sex and wouldn’t even glance in Louis’ direction thank you very much but the curly-haired boy doesn’t seem to be quite finished. Harry is smiling and has his hand out, as if ticking the names off his fingers.

“Then there was lesbian Lauren who everyone thought was having a thing with her bezzie Camilla - which they totally were only it was _last_ year -  but then Walliams caught her in the dec shed with Karlie from strings. Mental, I swear.”

Niall nods along as Harry speaks, folding over in laughter when Harry’s done, spitting out, “Imagine Walliams’ face when he saw _that_! He’s a poofter himself ain’t he? Probably keeled over in shock!”

Louis smiles at that before waving a hand out when Zayn comes riding by his head, lips puckering out. Zayn stops his board and slips the cigarette between his lips gently and rides away, leaving Louis with it. He takes a deep drag, slowly letting the smoke leave his mouth, the nicotine already smoothing the anxious edges of his body.

“Oh and then obviously Grimmy.”

Louis tenses at the mention of Grimshaw in the context of potential mates and takes a deep drag of the cigarette to calm his nerves. They don’t know. They can’t know. Louis made damn sure _no one_ knew what happened between them last summer.

“Woah Grimmy is gay?” Liam interrupts, looking up from the keyboard with a perplexed look on his face.

“As a diamond studded rainbow.” The reply comes from the boy himself, who is standing just above Louis’ head and smirking down at him. Without asking, he leans down and snatches the cigarette from Louis’ mouth and slips it into his, taking the final drag before stamping it out.

Louis is too surprised to move or say anything about it so he just lays there against the pavement, gawking at Grimshaw. He tries not to think about how Grimshaw’s lips are now in the same spot his were a few seconds ago or it might short-circuit his brain.

He squints in the dull sunlight, not paying too much attention as Harry walks over and gives Grimshaw a hug, which shouldn’t make him scowl but it does. Grimshaw pointedly bypasses him in his hellos, making his way over to Liam, Zayn, and Niall, fistbumping the lads as if they’re more than acquaintances. It irks him, that he’s friendly with Louis’ mates.

“Why are you even here?” Louis sneers, sitting up and leaning back on his palms. He pretends to ignore the way Grimshaw’s eyes flicker down his body despite the tingling sensation that it leaves down his spine, keeping a  frown on his face. He wants to hunch inwards and hide himself from Grimshaw’s eyes, knowing his mind is (another word?)  back to last summer with the way he smirks at Louis.

“Well, _Lewis_ ,” he starts, sinking down to sit next to Harry at the lip of the shallow end. “I was invited by young Harold here.”

Louis looks over at Harry who just shrugs, “He’s in our group, Lou.”

Oh right. He had forgotten that little fact and by forgotten, he means pushed to the farthest edges of his brain until it was no longer on his radar because why would the universe be as cruel as to put him and Grimshaw in the same group for the end-of-summer performance? Louis lays back down against the pool edge, back stretching  along the pavement as he closes his eyes to try and forget this is actually happening.

He hears Liam hunch over his little keyboard once more and starts playing the opening notes to the Charlie Brown theme song causing Zayn and Niall to crack up. Liam continues to play, giggling all the while, before saying, “Plus you two need to get used to working together since you’re going to be on your own for most of the summer.”

Louis tenses and springs back up. “What?”

He doesn’t realize Grimshaw has shouted the same thing until the other boy looks over at him, eyes narrowed as if it’s Louis’ fault this is happening.

“What’re on about?” Grimshaw asks, composing himself far quicker than Louis who is still glaring holes into Harry.

The curly-haired boy is avoiding eye contact with both of them, as are the other lads but Niall speaks up after a very long and awkward silence.

“Well Grimmy you’re the producer for the song yeah?” He starts, waiting for Grimshaw to nod slowly before looking over at Louis. “And Lou, you’re the composer. It’s normal that you both will be meeting up and working together a lot over the summer to create a song and lyrics for us to perform yeah?”

He’s right, is the thing. Louis doesn’t want to admit it but tradition dictates that the producer and composer work together first to bleed out some ideas before bringing something useful back to the musicians in the group to practice and hone the song until it’s perfect. He looks over at Grimshaw and sees the same look of resignation.

The other boys watch as Louis lets out a groan that receives a round of laughter. They don’t understand though! Hours and hours alone with Nick Grimshaw? The lads probably think he’s upset to be stuck alone with his arch nemesis - which, yes - but also if he’s alone with Grimshaw, who knows what sort of base desires he might succumb to?

“I’m sure you guys can figure somtin’ out,” Niall says, interrupting Louis’ internal panic, smiling wickedly before continuing. “Or one of you will kill t’other!”

The lads laugh once more before Niall produces a joint from under his snapback and they all agree that they definitely were too tired to focus at such an early hour (it’s now nearly one in the afternoon, but who’s looking at the time?) and head towards the pond, Grimshaw trailing behind with Harry but glancing over at Louis every so often.

This is going to be the longest summer ever.

\--

Louis’ favourite place in the Academy is the music room on the furthest corner of the northern wing. He found it in his second year here, the small and damp room was unused by any of the instructors and students as far as Louis knew, and it became the only place he could do any writing. He remembers when he spent hours staring at the water stain in the top right corner of the ceiling before coming up with the middle eight  for his final piece last year or when he came out to Harry the year before and hid in this room until the other boy found him - “Only you would find the dingiest room in a Victorian estate to cry in” “Oi, ‘m not crying, Styles.“

It has a floor to ceiling mirror on one wall as if the room used to host dance courses (though it’s so small only about 4 students would be able to actually move around freely enough to call it dancing) and the walls are a cherry red and eggshell white pattern. There’s only one electrical outlet with a rectangular desk that Louis dragged in from another classroom right under it, and a solitary chair plopped in front of it.

Now, about a week after the first day of classes, Louis is lying flat on top of the table with his feet dangling slightly off the edge and tapping to a beat he just can’t quite reach. He needs a Big Idea. Something that will wow his instructors and show his peers (read: Grimshaw) how much better he is than them. He huffs out a breath, making his fringe fly up before flopping back onto his forehead, and twists back up into a sitting position. He’s been here for hours and _nothing_.

With a quick look at his frustrated reflection, Louis hops off the table and goes to grab his bag. There’s a hole starting in the corner of it and he plans to beg slash bribe Eleanor to sew up for him. He opens the camera app on his phone and snaps a shot of the frayed edges and sends it to her with three question marks and five kissy-face emojis, hoping it will be enough. If not, he’ll have to think of something he could bribe her with.

Louis is about to leave the dingy room when the door swings open, a person sliding in quickly before the door is slammed shut again. Nick Grimshaw is standing with his back to the door, panting and looking more than a little scared. There’s a shine of sweat on his massively large forehead that Louis is about to point out but then Grimshaw finally sees that he is is in fact not alone in this room.

“Tomlinson, what the hell are you doing in here?”

Louis sputters. _Him?_

“Me? You’re the one who came barging into my safe space - ”

“Your what?” Grimshaw asks laughing, looking around the tiny room with crinkling eyes.

Louis freezes, not realizing what he’s said out loud and folds his arms against his stomach for the inevitable mocking. He wouldn’t be surprised, if the roles were reversed he’d do the same.

“This craphole is your ‘secret space’?”

The use of finger quotes is enough to have Louis grit his teeth but he keeps himself in check, not letting Grimshaw know he’s getting to him. He simply rolls his eyes and hitches his bag further onto his shoulder before cocking his hip slightly.

“What are you even doing here?” Louis repeats, trying not to focus on the way Grimshaw’s eyes brighten when they meet his or the long stretch of his index finger as he drag it over his bottom lip.

Grimshaw lets out a huff of laughter, looking over his shoulder at the door as if someone will come bursting in behind him. When no one does, he props himself against the door and Louis furrows his brow, unable to look away from the long line of his body.

“I just need to hide out here for a few minutes until they’re gone and then you’ll be free of me.” Grimshaw says.

“‘They’?” Grimshaw looks surprised at Louis’ question, that he even cares enough to ask, and to be honest so is Louis. He shrugs. So he’s curious. Sue him. It’s music camp not drama camp, he needs some sort of excitement this summer and he knows the excitement of last won’t be happening _ever_ again.

Grimshaw’s face seems to shut down at that, eyebrows and mouth forming a line as he looks down at the ground. His brown boots are scuffing across the floor, back and forth, distracting them both from Louis’ question until Grimshaw finally speaks.

“Er, it’s,” he clears his throat and rubs a hand over his wrist. “You know Michael and his merry band of followers?”

Louis nods. Everyone knows Michael Clifford and his friends, Calum, Ashton, and Luke. They’ve been coming to the Academy almost as long as Louis has and think they run the camp because they mock and terrorize the other campers.

They’ve shouted their fair share of homophobic slurs at Louis over the years and after an incident last year where someone switched Michael’s hair dye with Nair, they seemed to think it was Louis and started giving him even more shit. Why they thought that, he’ll never know. The person who did it never revealed themselves but Louis has felt a small tug of gratitude for whomever it was even if it made Michael and his cronies a bit more unbearable.

Though Harry says he may have implicated himself when he let out the loudest cackle when he saw the bald patch the next day in the canteen. Whatever, he knows he didn’t do it but they didn’t believe him and took it as a retaliation for all the times they hassled him.

He doesn’t realize Grimshaw’s speaking until his eyes meet Louis’ and it knocks him out of his head in time to hear,

“...and I may or may not have put shaving cream all over their instruments and they saw me and started chasing me down the halls and I am really not in the best of shape so I had to hide somewhere.”

Louis can say that he was not expecting that.

“It’s you?”

“Er...yes…?”

“You’re the one who keeps pranking them?” Louis shakes his head before he takes off his bag and plops it on the floor by his feet before pointing a finger at Grimshaw. “You’re such a - a twat!”

“What?” Grimshaw sputters. “If not for me, those arseholes would walk around this camp like they own the place! I’m just knocking them down a few pegs!”

Louis glares at him, bunching his hands into fists at his sides. They stand there in an irritated silence before Grimshaw lets out an angry huff and crosses his arms over his chest before shrugging at Louis, his voice quieter and less charged than before.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is, Tomlinson. I thought you hated them.”

Louis’ gaze flicks up to catch Grimshaw’s and an involuntary shiver snakes down his spine at the fiery look in his eyes. He rubs a hand over his hair, making it stick up and about around his head, trying to rid his body of the heat now coursing through it. He looks away before the blush on his cheeks is noticeable.

“They harass you every single day,” Grimshaw continues, pushing up off the door and walking up to where Louis is standing. “What does it matter if I pull a couple of harmless pranks every once and awhile?”

“Because they think it’s me!” Louis blurts out, narrowed eyes meeting Grimshaw’s once more.

“They do?”

“Yes!”

“They must be dumber than I thought.”

Louis almost lets out a laugh, stopping it just in time though he thinks Grimshaw saw judging by the amused smirk on his lips. God, those _lips_. Jesus, Tomlinson get yourself together! He glares at Grimshaw again and takes a step back, only just noticing how close they’d gotten. Grimshaw lets out a noise, almost as if in protest to Louis moving away but he pretends he didn’t hear it.

He bends down to pick up his bag once more, slinging it over his left shoulder before looking back up. Only now Grimshaw is closer than before and Louis can’t breathe. He can feel the heat radiating from Grimshaw’s body, his skin only inches away from Louis’. All he’d need to do is reach out.

“You need to stop, okay?” Louis says at once, trying to steer the conversation back to where it was before he lost his mind.

Grimshaw huffs out a laugh, eyes raking up Louis’ body and making him warm all over. “Stop what exactly?”

“Stop - stop doing what you’re doing,” Louis responds, almost forgetting what he was initially saying. “Michael and his twathead mates think it’s me and they won’t stop harassing me because of you!”

“Sorry, love.” Grimshaw smiles at that, body hunching forward slightly as his face tips closer. When he speaks next, Grimshaw’s mouth brushes Louis’ ear and he nearly faints. “How ever will I make it up to you?”

Louis reaches up and grasps Grimshaw’s shoulder to steady himself, the air in the room degrees hotter than it was before. He’s losing his control on the situation, just like last summer in that damn dressing room. Grimshaw finally moves in closer, hands gripping Louis by the waist and sliding across his back before pulling him up against him, mouth dipping down to Louis’ ear once more.

“I remember how you like it, love.” He says against Louis’ skin and it makes Louis’ blood run cold.

Louis pushes Grimshaw away from him, glaring at the taller boy  and pressing his hands against the flush of his cheeks. Grimshaw looks stunned, hands still somewhat in the air from where they’d been around Louis’ body. His clothes are a little mussed up from where he was pressed up against him and Louis purposely does not look below his waist, Grimshaw’s words echoing in his head.

He picks up his bag once again - how does it keep falling on the ground for fucksake - and pushes past Grimshaw with his head down in shame. He should’ve known this was all a game just to see how far Louis would go and how Grimshaw can use it against him. Maybe tell Harry or his twattish friends all about how Louis Tomlinson gets hard over stupid beanpole hipsters with stupid hair.

Before he even makes it to his dorm, Louis has to duck into an alcove by the main hall to try and get his breathing under control because the air isn’t reaching his lungs and the world seems to be capsizing. He can’t believe he fell for it again. Last summer was one thing, Louis was lonely and didn’t get any scouts calling his name when Grimshaw found him in the dressing room. It was one of the only moments where Nick Grimshaw actually acted like a human being, sympathizing with Louis over his sorrows and making Louis want to kiss him.

He never should have kissed him.

\--

About an hour after he crawled his way up to roof of the storage shed, jeans covered in chipped paint and god-knows-what, Louis decides that a new location does not in fact create new ideas. He’s still stumped. Slinging his headphones off his head to hang around his neck, he lets out a loud huff before stretching out his legs until his feet dangle off the edge.

James Bay screams out from his headphones because he’s too lazy and frustrated to bother pausing the music but he manages to hear an irritatingly familiar voice calling up to him, making him nearly jump out of his skin in the process.

“What in God’s name are you doing up there?” Grimshaw says, cigarette dangling from his long fingers as he peers quizzically up at Louis. Louis gently places his laptop next to his hip and moves towards the edge, flopping on his stomach. He starts smiling as he thinks up a witty reply before he realizes what his face is doing and promptly forces a scowl on his lips.

Grimshaw _is_ smiling at him, tipping his ciggie towards the ground to get rid of the ash at the tip before speaking, “Well? You gonna answer the question or not?”

“Not.” Louis says, just to be contrary.

“Alright.”

And that’s all Louis hears from Grimshaw before he’s stamping out his cigarette and making the awkward climb up the wall of the decorations shed and onto the roof beside Louis. Louis quickly shuffles all of his writing kit aside so there’s room for Grimshaw’s lanky body as he stretches himself out across the small surface.

“Ugh, watch where you’re swinging those twigs you call arms, Grimshaw.”

Grimshaw laughs and nudges Louis before settling in next to him. Louis resolutely does _not_ stare at the way his face almost glows under the sunlight, instead tapping his fingers against his shoes. Grimshaw props himself up on his elbows, long legs stretched out in front of them as he looks up at Louis and Louis resolutely _does not_ stare at the long length of his body.

“You know you _can_ call me Nick. All my friends do.”

“We’re not friends, Grimshaw.” Louis spits back.

“Ouch,” he feigns, long fingers gripping into the fabric of his t-shirt over where his heart is. “You wound me, Lou.”

Louis’ heart races at the nickname but he pushes the feeling aside and shrugs his bony shoulder, looking over at Grimshaw and waiting to be contradicted. He’s not wrong. They’re not friends. They’ve never _been_ friends, not in all the years they’ve attended the Academy. Even after they hooked up - _especially_ after they hooked up. They’ve been at each other’s throats for so long, Louis can’t remember when he even started hating Nick Grimshaw nor did he remember why. It probably had something to do with his stupid hair.

Grimshaw only frowns in response, eyes narrowing as if he were studying Louis. He wonders how he never noticed how pretty Nick’s eyes were. _Grimshaw_ , _not Nick_ , he thinks. Grimshaw.

“So, about what happened the other day - ”

“You are joking if you think we’re talking about that.” Louis interrupts, face heating and skin getting itchy.

Grimshaw grins slightly and puts his hands up in mock-surrender before leaning back again. Louis looks away and wills the blush on his cheeks to fade.

“Are you listening to Dashboard Confessional?” Grimshaw exclaims, eyes now focusing on the laptop Louis moved to the side in his rush to mock him. “Is it 2002 again? Am I going to have to break out the jelly bracelets?”

Louis flushes slightly, biting down on his bottom lip to keep the smile from creeping on his face even as Grimshaw tips over from laughter.

“Shut up, they’re classic.”

“Yah for emo kids, maybe.” Grimshaw sputters out, trying to sit back up through his fit of laughter. Louis pushes back over and guffaws when Grimshaw squawks at him.

Eventually Grimshaw rights himself and Louis has managed to get control over his face and is resolutely _not_ smiling at him any longer. He avoids his eye when Grimshaw looks over at him and hears the other boy sigh, sitting back up and crossing his long, spider legs to sit in front of Louis.

“Look, Lou,” Grimshaw starts, not noticing the way Louis flushes again at the nickname. He really needs to get it together.

“You and I have this show and that’s it,” Grimshaw continues, eyes never leaving Louis’ face. “Our time is up at the Academy and so is our chance to impress any scouts.”

“Don’t you think I know that, ya prick?” Louis spits out, fingers rubbing at his wrists as the itchy feeling comes back. He hates how Grimshaw knows exactly how to press his buttons. The other boy huffs out a breath and runs a hand through his hair, tugging a little before looking back at Louis with an incredulous look on his face.

“That’s what I mean! We can’t be at each other’s throats all the time or else we’re not going to get anything done and then those Summer Seconds twats are going to win and I will eat my own hat if that happens.”

“What do you propose we do then?” Louis asks, finally catching his eye.

There a beat of silence as if Grimshaw is mulling over what to say next in order to get the best response from Louis and the childish, petty side of him wants to disagree with whatever comes out of his mouth but the rational part of his brain knows that Grimshaw is right. If they bung up the end-of-summer show then that’s it for him and he’s carted off back to Doncaster forever doing God-knows-what for the rest of his life.

He notices Grimshaw start to speak and tunes in to hear him say something about a truce till the end of the summer.

“A truce?” Louis repeats.

“Yeah, Lou, I think even you and I can manage to be civil for a few weeks until we go our separate ways yeah?”

Louis listens to him ramble a bit more about how it’ll be good for both of them and why their friends will agree but zones out until he hears his name fall from his lips again and it jolts him back into the conversation.

He’s looking at Louis funny, eyes narrowed and head slightly tilted.

“Lou?” He says again and is satisfied when Louis catches his eye again. “Do we have a deal? No more bickering?”

“It’s a deal... _Nick_.”

Louis tries to squash the tingling feeling spreading through his body when Nick smiles brightly at the use of his name (or maybe at the agreement of a truce?) but can’t help it when the other boy nudges his arm playfully.

“Wasn’t so hard was it?” Nick teases with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Shut it, Grimshaw.”

\--

It’s been almost two weeks at the Academy and Louis Tomlinson has not been drunk at a party yet. Luckily, Jesy had passed by their table during breakfast with a grin on her face and news of a bash in the woods north of the small stage.

“You gotta bring your own shit though,” she says, pointing a finger directly at Louis. So he drank most of her booze last summer, _big deal_.

He needs this tonight more than anything though. He and Nick have managed to solidify their truce in front of their friends, mostly by not saying a word to each other in courses or at meals instead sticking to their respective groups. It’s just during extra practice time where it seems to be a problem. They have been meeting up on their own to work on the music before bringing it to the rest of the boys, as previously decided for them.

The only word to describe those meetings would be: awkward. Without snarking at each other or doing _other things_ with their mouths, they really didn’t have anything to talk about and so most of the time they just sat there in silence working on their own stuff. Despite that, and his better judgement, Louis kind of started enjoying those moments.

When he’s not trying to impress his friends or Louis’, Nick tends to be more subdued. There’s less peacocking and more of a tendency to let Louis take the reigns. He listens when Louis tentatively brings up a key change and asks the right questions when Louis comes up with new lyrics, letting him explain why it works. Over time, they fall into a rhythm and the awkwardness filters away, even to the point where Louis doesn’t roll his eyes at any of Nick’s suggestions. Well, not much.

Their friends are happier that they are at the very least cordial to each other and so when they enter the clearing where Jesy has rounded up as many people in their year and few below to get as rowdy as they can in the middle of nowhere, he sends Nick a smile. They usually all group in the woods beyond the south end of the Academy but the councillors have since discovered their hiding spot so Jesy had to come up with a new place.

The clearing is a bit further down the way so their voices won’t carry but it’s a bitch to get to at night. Louis would’ve brained himself on a tree if Liam hadn’t caught him in time. He downs the rest of his beer, nudging Liam to see if he wants another but finds him distracted by a brunette he can’t remember the name of. Louis smirks and saunters away, eyes briefly wandering over to where Harry is talking to Nick and his friends, laughing so hard his torso tips forward and a snort sneaks out.

He’s not jealous. Not anymore, at least. He knows Harry is his best friend but did he really have to find Nick so bloody charming? It seems like everyone in the sodding world does. _Including you_ , his brain helpfully supplies.

With that thought, he finds the pile of drinks and grabs a couple more beers, downing the first as fast as possible before cracking open the other. He decides to seek out Zayn, but when he turns he finds a very tall body in front of him instead. He knows who it is before he even looks up so he stubbornly doesn’t.

“Move.”

“Hello to you too, Tomlinson.”

That makes him look up, eyes narrowing as he catches Nick’s gaze. Louis feels  his legs wobble slightly as he watches Nick lick his lips and stare down at him.

“We’re back to surnames then, are we?” Louis manages to spit out, fingers gripping the can in his hands when Nick moves forward a little.

Nick shrugs, “Like it when I call you Lou, then, do you?”

Louis doesn’t respond, which is concerning considering he’s him and Nick is Nick but he can’t seem to crack out a witty response. Yeah, he does kinda like it but he’s not about to say that out loud so he chooses to say nothing at all. He feels his body sway a bit forward, closer to the warmth of Nick’s body and quickly blames it on the alcohol instead of the way Nick’s eyes darken as he looks at Louis.

Louis shivers and Nick is quickly glancing over his shoulder before reaching out and gently grabbing Louis’ arm and walking away from the drinks hole and the larger groups of people.

They’re a little ways away from the rest of the crowd and Louis isn’t sure how Nick got this close to him but all of a sudden his mind is back in the dressing room last summer and he’s remembering Nick’s hands on him. He blinks slowly in the semi-darkness to meet Nick’s gaze, which seems to be on Louis’ lips. He can’t tell if he  wants to run away or pull Nick closer - or slap him.

“What’re you doing?” Louis asks instead, watching Nick’s gaze flicker up to his.  

“Nothing.” Nick replies, not moving from his spot but the look on his face telling Louis he wants to. “What do you want me to do?”

Louis is _not_ drunk enough for this, barely finishing up a couple of cans before letting Nick lead him down the narrow path away from the clearing. Why did he do that again? _Because he gave you that smile of his_ , his mind provides  helpfully. He steps back a little until he hits the rough bark of a tree and he grips it in order to stay upright.

Nick lets out a huff of laughter as he watches Louis and finally starts to steps closer. The movement startles Louis and he lifts up a hand to grab onto the arm of Nick’s jumper the material soft underneath his fingertips. He gives it a small tug and Nick takes the final step until he’s barely a breath away from Louis’ body.

“What do you want, Louis?” Nick asks, voice soft as he presses a hand against Louis’ shoulder, gripping the denim jacket until it bunches in his fist.

Louis stares up at him wide-eyed and a little helpless because he doesn’t really know what he wants or what to say or what is going to happen if he does know the answer to any of these questions. Louis doesn’t know anything except that he doesn’t want Nick to go so he holds on tighter to Nick’s jumper.

“Why is it me who has to have to answers all the time, eh?” He replies instead, tilting his head and forcing a smirk on his face. “Can’t think for yourself, Grimshaw?”

Nick rolls his eyes and ducks down a little, nose brushing  against the warm skin behind Louis’ ear which makes Louis shiver.

“Thought we were done with that?” He avoids the question as well, pressing gently on Louis’ shoulder again until he’s flat against the tree and Nick’s body is pressed along his front.

It’s overwhelming and Louis knows that if he doesn’t want this, now is the best time to push Nick away and be done with this whole game. Except, he does want it. He’s always wanted it. It’s Nick knowing he wants it that bothers him so much, that makes him want to push the boy away and run as fast as he can.

“Lou?” Nick whispers, pulling Louis back. “Thought I lost you there for a moment.”

There’s a smirk on Nick’s face that should be loathsome to Louis but instead makes him want to sink to his knees in the damp grass. He narrows his eyes at the thought but then Nick is leaning forward again, his other hand sliding up Louis’ side. It makes him let out a gentle sound into the almost quiet night that he almost wants to shove back down his throat but Nick’s hands feel too good to regret right now.

“Is this okay?” Nick asks, the hand on Louis’ shoulder moving up to cup his jaw.

Louis knows that if he opens his mouth the only thing that would come out is a whine, so he reaches up on his tip-toes and slides his mouth over Nick’s. The first thing he thinks is, _Finally_. The second is that there’s no going back, especially when Nick begins to kiss him harder and moans into his mouth. Louis wants this, so bad, and there’s no denying it anymore. To himself or to Nick.

Nick presses him into the tree and slides the hand at Louis’ waist under his jacket and t-shirt to get at the warm skin, making both of them groan when he finally touches him. Louis arches up into his hand, tongue sliding along Nick’s and seeking the heat of his mouth without restraint. He’s done holding back, done pretending this isn’t what he wants.

“Oh fuck,” Nick hisses out when Louis starts unbuttoning his jeans, small hands working around his cock. He wants to see Nick’s face as he works him in his hand and pulls back to see the boy’s mouth drop open and eyes flutter shut and it almost makes Louis come right then.

“Fucking kiss me,” Nick moans when he catches Louis staring at him and Louis doesn’t protest, pressing his mouth back on Nick’s.

Louis slides his hand along Nick’s cock, loving the weight of it in his palm and the way he can make Nick incoherent without even trying. It’s exhilarating but not enough and Nick must agree because he pulls back and starts in on Louis’ trousers and pants until they’re bunched around his thighs and his cock is exposed to the cool air. Nick doesn’t do anything for a moment, only stares at Louis.

“You just gonna look at it all night or what?” Louis huffs, removing his hand from Nick’s pants and yanking Nick down to kiss him again but the other boy stops before he can press their mouths together again.

Louis tenses up, wondering what’s gone wrong or if Nick’s changed his mind. Maybe this was just some elaborate joke and Aimee and Douglas are going to come out of the bushes to laugh at him with his pants round his thighs and --

“Was thinking I’d suck you off, actually.” Nick says against Louis’ mouth and Louis nearly blanks out at the thought. “Is that alright with you?”

The smirk is back on Nick’s kiss-swollen lips but before Louis can kiss it off his face, Nick’s already sinking down to his knees. The heat of Nick’s mouth nearly makes Louis pass out and he flails a little until he finds purchase in Nick’s hair. The boy makes a noise around his cock and Louis huffs, moving his hands onto Nick’s shoulders instead. He tries to keep his eyes open to watch the dim vision of Nick with his mouth around him but it feels too good and he’s tilting his head back against the tree.

“Ah, ah!” Louis whines out, hips careening forward when Nick does something amazing with his tongue.

Nick slowly pulls off, fingers wiping at his mouth and sits back on his haunches. “If you keep making all that noise, someone’s gonna come looking for us.”

“Shut up and get your mouth back on me, Nick.” Louis whines, pulling Nick’s shoulders until he smirks and moves back to wrap his mouth around Louis’ cock.

Louis would be embarrassed by how desperate he sounds but he can’t be bothered when he’s this close to coming. It doesn’t take that much long after Nick tries to take him all the way down, Louis feeling his throat contract around his dick the last thing he remembers before he’s tensing up and coming in Nick’s mouth.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Louis moans out, bringing his hands up to press against his eyelids as if it would get rid of the stars he’s seeing.

He doesn’t even process Nick standing up or that he pulls up Louis’ pants and trousers until Louis is being kissed on the mouth again, his brain a little fuzzy as he kisses back at now-familiar lips. Nick continues to kiss him but Louis pulls off abruptly, blurting out, “Wait, you didn’t come!”

Nick tilts forward and giggles into Louis’ hair, murmuring into his ear, “Not yet, no. I was enjoying myself too much to stop.”

Louis tries not to read too much into Nick’s words and pushes Nick back a little to recapture his lips in a kiss. Louis remembers last summer and how much Nick likes being kissed but he also remembers how much he loved Louis’ hands. He dips his hands underneath Nick’s jumper to play along his skin, one hand moving up to play with his nipple, eliciting a gasp from Nick.

“Cannot believe you remembered that,” Nick mumbles into Louis’ neck, pressing kisses there as Louis continues to rub at Nick’s skin, eventually making his way down to his hips and slipping inside his pants once more.

When he finally gets his hands on Nick again, the boy in question lets out a laugh. Louis, confused, pulls his head back to catch his eye and squeezes a hand around Nick’s cock.

“Something funny, Grimshaw?” Louis raises an angry eyebrow but in the dim light of the night he doubts Nick can see it.

Nick grins at him again, shaking his head and pawing at the back of Louis’ head until he moves back in and can kiss along his jaw. Louis continues to stroke up his hard cock, loving the erratic breaths Nick emits onto his skin. It’s enough to make his dick twitch with interest, the way Nick can’t seem to keep still as Louis twists his wrist, his hands moving from Louis’ hair to his jaw to his shoulders. Louis slides the pad of his thumb over the head, biting down on his bottom lip when Nick makes a choked noise and starts to tense, coming onto Louis’ hand and bit on his own shoes.

The space between them is quiet except for Nick’s panting breaths and the sound of Louis’ mouth as he starts to lick the come of his fingers since neither  of them thought they’d be needing  tissues and he was _not_ using leaves to wipe off come thank you very much. When he’s at his thumb, teeth catching along his nail, he sees Nick watching with hooded eyes and a slightly dropped jaw.

Louis smiles dirtily at Nick, his mouth popping off his thumb as he pulls the other boy in for a deep kiss, making sure the other boy can taste himself on Louis’ tongue. When they pull apart to catch their breath, all Louis can do is watch as Nick pulls up his jeans and buttons them up, mouth tingling from all the kissing. He’s about to say something ridiculous like “we should do this again sometime” when Nick’s name is being called through the trees.

Louis winces at how quickly Nick swings his head towards the voices before looking back at him. His eyes seem to be asking something of Louis but he doesn’t know what it is and before he even really knows what he’s doing, he’s pushing Nick away.

“You should go,” Louis whispers. “It sounds like Aimee and you know how nosy and persistent she can be.”

Nick’s face shifts slightly, but he’s always been good at hiding how he feels because Louis still can’t read him. The taller boy brushes a hand over his clothes to smooth things out, shooting Louis a smile.

“Especially when on a bender.” He replies, as if what they’re actually saying means more than what they’re not. “I’ll see you out there?”

Louis nods before looking away, hearing the rustling of leaves and Nick’s cheery voice that he reserves for people he likes - people who aren’t Louis - echo through the darkness. When he’s sure no one is around, he slumps against the tree and drops his head into his hands, feeling his eyes start to water.

He curls his hands in irritation before shoving his fists into his closed eyes. Like fuck he’s going to cry over Nick fucking Grimshaw. No, what he’s going to do is clean himself up, grab another couple of drinks and get pissed with his mates because he is learning from the best minds in the country and he’s there with the best mates he could ask for and he’s fit as fuck. Louis should not be crying because some boy doesn’t want to cuddle after getting off.

\--

Louis was absolutely, definitely not hiding from Nick Grimshaw.

At least that’s what he’s telling himself (and Harry when he badgers him about it) when he ducks down opposite corridors and finds an excuse to leave the room when Nick saunters in. He notices the odd looks on the lads’ faces and the blank one on Nick’s and runs out the room without a second thought.

They haven’t talked about it, is the thing. There have been moments between the party and now where they could have but either Louis ran away or Nick started on about how wasted he was at the party, so bringing it up just seemed like a bad idea more and more.

So they forgot about it.

Only Louis couldn’t. When he closed his eyes, he could feel the press of Nick’s hands on his skin and the searing heat of his mouth. It’s distracting and arousing and rendering him completely useless. The one good thing that came out of Louis’ avoiding Nick - besides him never confronting the humiliating realness of the situation - is that Louis finally got to finish his song.

It was slower than he intended it to be, more of a ballad than a pop single, but the words just seemed to fit with the melody and Louis didn’t have it in him to change it. The lads will understand that he’s changed it around a bit and he hopes that they love it as much as Louis does. He bites his lip and hunches over his laptop, headphones looped around his neck as he settles in his quiet writing space and presses play on the recording.

The soft start of a piano echoes through the empty classroom and Louis smiles a little as his voice enters on cue, thinking about how great Harry’s voice would sound blended in at the chorus while Niall and Liam grab a verse of their own and Zayn destroys an entire section, his smooth voice bringing the ballad to an end.

Funny enough, it was Nick’s idea to turn the song into a ballad.

They had been on top of the decorations shed a few days before the party, trying to get something done to bring back to the boys and Louis was ready to pull his hair out because it _just didn’t work_. It didn’t help that the sound of Nick’s voice was enough to put Louis on edge, the lilt of it sending shivers down his spine.

“Why don’t you slow it down a bit instead?” Nick had suggested.

Louis protested, of course, but when Nick had asked him to trust him and just ‘ _try it you tosser’_ , Louis relented and slowed down the tempo. He refused to sing in front of Nick since the last time he did, he could hear Michael and his band of twats laughing at him, mocking the high, breathiness of his voice. But Nick wasn’t having that.

“Sing.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t sing it properly, it’ll sound loads better when Haz or the others do it.”

“But it’s your song, I wanna hear how you want it to sound.” Nick pressed on. “I can’t help you with it if I don’t hear the _real_ thing.”

“The real thing?” Louis repeated, brow furrowed.

Louis watched as Nick flushed a little, the highest points of his cheeks turning a soft pink, and shuffled a bit where he sat across from Louis. It made something warm ignite in Louis’ chest and he pressed the tips of his fingers against his breastbone, as if trying to extinguish it through his skin. Nick mumbled something that Louis doesn’t quite catch and he leaned forward a bit, asking him to repeat himself.

“I _said_ ,” Nick started again, cheeks reddening even more. “Your voice is kinda special, ya know?”

Louis’ eyes widened and he tried to compose himself but felt the flush creeping up the back of his neck anyway. He ducked his head down quick so Nick didn’t see but managed to sputter out, “Special how?”

“You’re such a prick, making me explain when you won’t even look me in the eye.”

Louis snapped his head up at that, smiling slightly because in some ways he and Nick are very similar and it made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. He found himself locking eyes with Nick and the other boy let out a small chuckle before running a hand through his hair and looking back at Louis.

Nick cleared his throat before speaking, “You, uhm, do this thing when you sing sometimes where your voice gets all raspy and I think it’d be perfect for the song if it were a ballad.”

Louis sat as still as he can, mind reeling as he took in Nick’s words but he didn’t say anything. After a long few seconds of silence, Nick got fidgety and Louis started to smile.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Nick asked, confusion evident on his face.

“I’ll sing it for you.”

“Just because of what I said?”

“Sort of.” Louis shrugged, “And because I really do need your opinion of it.”

“Why mine? Wouldn’t Harry be a better choice? He is your best mate after all.”

“Harry would only tell me what he thinks I want to  hear.”

“And I won’t?”

“No, you’ll tell me what I actually want to hear, which is constructive criticism.”

“So basically I’ll tell you if it’s shit or not?”

“Basically.”

“Okay,” Nick said after a beat, leaning back on his hands lazily. “Sing for me, Tomlinson.”

“You’re such a twat.” He said with a laugh but then dragged his small keyboard towards him and turned it on, clearing his throat a little as the nerves start building up.

His fingers brushed along the keys and he began to play the beginning chords to the song, slowing it down like Nick suggested so it plays more like a ballad. He cleared his throat once more before the cue to begin singing jumps in and he’s surprised that when he opens his mouth, sound comes out. He didn’t look at Nick as he continued, stuttering a little at the slower tempo because he’s only ever practised it as a faster beat, because he knows if he does he’ll stop and run away.

“Well?”

“Honestly?” Nick said in response.

“...Yes?” Louis said, posing it as more of a question as his nerves creep along his skin.

Nick pressed his long fingers to his lips, a brief pause before his lips grow slowly into a smile that will take Louis eons to forget.

“I think it’s beautiful.”

 _Beautiful_.

Louis can still remember the way Nick’s mouth had formed around the word, making his cheeks flush pink and his gaze drop. He tries to shake away that memory as he listens to the recording but it lingers, just like anything Nick does and Louis slumps in his chair.

Louis replays the song and attempts to make some notes - questions to ask the boys, where he wants Zayn to power out those amazing high notes, lyrics that might need rearranging - but he finds himself far too distracted. He plays it again and just ends up throwing his pen down and dropping his head in his hands, palms pressing into his eyelids.

He’s so wrapped up in his head that he doesn’t hear the door open until whoever it is walks up to him.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Louis startles, snapping his head up and stumbling out of the chair to stare at Nick. Nick looks alarmed, brown eyes wide and mouth quirked downward. The look on his face softens slightly and Louis wills himself to relax, unclenching the fists that hang by his side. He looks over Nick, taking in the ratty t-shirt and baggy sweatpants and glasses - oh how he loves it when Nick wears his glasses - and realizes this is the first time he’s seen Nick in anything but skinny jeans.

“Going for a more casual look, are we?” Louis blurts out, unable to help himself.

Nick blushes as he looks down at himself, long fingers picking at the t-shirt that Louis just now sees has Britney Spears on it.

“I, uhm, may’ve forgotten to send my clothes down to washing this week?” Nick explains, adjusting his glasses and making Louis warm all over.

“Do I really look that awful?” Nick asks, because his vanity begs it, Louis supposes even though he’s the complete opposite.

Louis shakes his head slowly, lips wrapping around the word ‘no’ before he’s even thought it through and it makes Nick beam so it can’t have been all that bad a decision. But then Louis remembers the elephant in the room and rights himself, clearing his throat.

“Did you need something?” He asks, trying to sound unaffected.

Nick’s smile drops, looking away again. It makes Louis’ chest tighten but he really doesn’t know what to do except keep on like usual and usually he’s a dick.

“No, I just thought that maybe we should talk?” Nick says, phrasing it more like a question and tilting his head.

“About?”

“What happened at the party.”

“I thought you were too drunk to remember?”

Nick has the sense to look guilty at that, mouth twisting. “I lied.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Louis shrugs. He’s out of his depth again, stuck with Nick having all the cards in his hands and Louis flailing around trying to remember which side is up. He doesn’t understand what Nick wants, really. One minute Louis is so sure Nick is flirting with him and the next he’s chatting to his mates about how twatty Louis is. Then he snogs the living daylights out of Louis and pretends like he doesn’t remember it the next day. It’s all doing his head in.

“You’re doing my head in, Lou, I swear.”

Louis nearly chokes on his own saliva, eyes sharp as he looks at Nick’s exasperated face.

“Me?” He nearly screeches. “ _I’m_ doing _your_ head in? You’re fucking joking, mate?”

“Yeah, you are! One minute you’re practically snogging my face off and the next you’re pretending I don’t exist!”

Louis stares at Nick in shock, mouth open wide. He’s practically shaking with rage, Nick’s words making him  increasingly angrier. He steps closer to Nick, finger pointing at Nick and brow furrowed.

“You kissed me, Grimshaw, last I checked, _Both times_.”

At that, Nick steps back as if he were slapped and Louis’ not sure what he’s done now but there’s a look of resignation on Nick’s face that he’d like to disappear fast.

“Right.” Nick mutters, hand sliding over his hair and ruffling it. “I think I get it now. It was all me then? It was all in my head?” He continues, eyes angry and sharp as they stare into Louis’. “I imagined the way you kissed me back and begged for more, clinging to me?”

Louis flushes at Nick’s words because that’s what he has always been afraid of, isn’t it? The obvious way he and his traitorous body submit to Nick without a second thought, giving in to the feel of him. Nick takes Louis’ silence as assent and lets out a humourless laugh, running another hand through his hair before muttering, ‘whatever’, and making his way to the door.

Louis starts to panic, wanting to reach out and grab onto Nick’s hideous t-shirt and never let him go but he can’t seem to make his limbs move.

“Nick,” he calls out, wondering why he did since he doesn’t know what to say next. Nick stops and turns slightly, eyebrow raised as if granting Louis permission to continue. The air in the room is stifling, the walls too close together,  and his favourite place at the Academy is now becoming the worst.

“What about the song?” Louis finds himself saying, hand coming up to his mouth as if he could push the words back in before they reach Nick’s ears because even he knows that was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Nick huffs out a laugh and turns back towards the door, flinging it open. “Do whatever you want, Tomlinson,” he throws over his shoulder.  “You always do.”

\--

He’s sitting in the west end lounge when he sees Nick again. There are a few people scattered about the room, most wearing headphones and staring into the screen of their laptops obsessively. He’ll be glad for the buffer when Nick inevitably comes up to him to say something twatty, especially since he has his mate Douglas with him.

Only Nick doesn’t come. Louis watches him as stealthily as he can, pen scratching against the pages of his notebook in pretense as Nick laughs at something Douglas says. He knows Nick can see him - how can he not, there’s like seven people in the entire room - but he doesn’t look over, not once.

Louis looks down at his hands, dropping the pen in exasperation before realizing that he really has no reason to be upset. He had the chance to tell Nick how he felt and he fucked up. He’ll never know what Nick wanted to say that day because of what?

 _Because you were scared_ , he thinks.

He looks back up at Nick and nearly growls at the way Nick’s hand rests on Douglas’ shoulder, fingers brushing the other boy’s neck. He remembers that touch, craves it most days, and he nearly wants to scream as Douglas looks at Nick like he’s the funniest person on the planet.

That’s what Nick needs, someone to fluff his ego and tell him how funny he is. Louis would never, their banter too natural and intoxicating for Louis to submit like that.

He can’t look away and it’s torture, really. Nick leans away from Douglas and runs a hand through his quiff before writing something down in the book on his lap. Louis’ only just realized the two boys were actually surrounded by books and papers, studying like everything is normal and Nick isn’t just flaunting his gorgeous mate in front of him just for Louis to be jealous of.

He shakes his head and huffs out a laugh, gathering his things in a rapid movement. He needs fresh air if that’s where his head's at, accusing people of jealousy schemes that fester this knot of possessiveness in his belly. Nick isn’t his. And he won’t ever be if Louis doesn’t ever get his head out of his ass and figure out why every single time he and Nick take a step forward in whatever the hell they’re doing, something in Louis pulls back.

What is he scared of more, being _with_ Nick or being _without_ him? Because the end of summer is approaching faster than he wants and he has to make a decision soon or else he’ll probably lose Nick forever.

 _Way to be dramatic Tomlinson_ , he thinks, the voice in his head sounding, ironically, too much like Nick.

He hitches his bag over his shoulder and makes his way to the exit of the lounge, a walk might clear him right up. Or he’ll get so twisted up in his thoughts he’ll go mad. Either way he needs to get out of this room before he burns a hole in the back of Nick’s head. The boy in question does raise his head as Louis walks by but Louis doesn’t want to meet the disappoint that is surely in his gaze.

No. Louis will not approach Nick until he knows what he wants and how to properly talk about it. For now, he’ll just work on their song.

He’s nearing the front halls of the Academy when he hears someone call his name, Louis turns his head instinctively. Nick is jogging up to him, cheeks pink and breath coming out in puffs. The hall is unusually quiet, void of the shuffling of students going from one course to another or just mucking about when the instructors aren’t around. It’s why he can hear Nick’s voice even if his voice is a bit subdued than his normal tone, the obnoxious gusto that normally decorates his Northern accent is replaced with resignation.

He thinks Louis won’t bother with him anymore. As if Louis could get over him this quickly, if at all. He stops by the doors and grips the strap of his bag tightly before spinning around and facing Nick. The taller boy makes his way toward him slowly, face guarded with the exception of a tentative smile on his face. He looks good, though Louis noticed that in the lounge what with the constant staring.

“What is it?” Louis spits out, wanting to slap himself at his hard tone.

Nick looks taken aback a little and Louis wants to reach out and smooth out the wrinkle in his brow with the pads of his fingers. Instead, he flexes his fingers around his bag strap and looks at Nick from under his eyelashes.

“I - ” Nick starts, eyes bearing into Louis’ as he swallows harshly. “It just seemed like you wanted to talk to me, in the lounge, I mean.”

Louis doesn’t say a word, flushing at the fact that Nick knew Louis was staring at him the whole time. He needs to say something. He needs to apologize. He needs to stop being so damn scared at the idea of Nick knowing how he feels.

“Unless I’ve got it wrong again, of course.” Nick says wryly, as if he knows Louis isn’t going to say a word. Nick shakes his head with a smile on his face that just looks wrong and begins to turn away.

Louis doesn’t know why he does it but he whips a hand out and grabs the sleeve of Nick’s jumper. The other boy stills and his eyes narrow at Louis’ hand on him. Louis quickly lets go of him and brings his hand back to his chest, pressing his fist into his sternum to try and push the words out.

“I just need - ” He starts, eyes widening as Nick turns back around and giving Louis his full attention. He almost looks hopeful and it makes Louis tremble slightly with the weight of it.

He shuts his mouth again, biting down on his bottom lip and squeezing his eyes shut. He must look a right tit to Nick, this back and forth enough to make anyone mental, but he can’t seem to just _spit it out_.

“What is it?” Nick cuts in, making Louis snap his eyes open to see Nick staring at him imploringly. “What do you need, Lou? Cos I’m wracking my brain trying to figure you out.

“I thought maybe it was the fact that I’m a bloke but you’re already out to the entire bloody camp, then I figured it was just _me_ you didn’t like which is fair since I have been a twat these last few years.”

Nick pauses, taking in a breath and watching Louis who is just staring back at him. He doesn’t want to interrupt him but his eyes are starting to water and Nick’s gaze is softening and he opens his mouth to speak once more.

“But then you kissed me back.” He breaths out. “Last year, you kissed me back and it’s all I’ve wanted to do since.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. Nick has always been good at talking, whether it’s complete gobshite or something like this, something meaningful. He bites the inside of his cheek and stares at Nick imploringly, wondering if he could just have Nick read his mind. The other boy sighs and looks down at his shoes, what he says next almost making Louis burst into tears.

“I really like you,” Nick says without hesitation and Louis is so jealous of the way he can just _do that_ , lay himself out like that despite the consequences. For the first time since Nick kissed him last year, Louis wants to be vulnerable. He takes a deep breath.

“I just need time.” Louis finally says, knowing it’s not what Nick wants to hear but it’s all he can force out at the moment.

To Louis’ surprise, Nick smiles at him. He smiles one of those smiles he used to give before Louis had mucked it all up, where it reaches his eyes and lights up his whole face. Nick nods his head and bites his lip before stepping backward.

“Okay.” Nick says as he continues to walk back towards the lounge, that small smile still on his lips and Louis doesn’t know if he should feel happy or wholly confused. All he knows is that Nick looks like Louis just handed him the world and he needs to figure out how to get him to look at Louis like that always.

\--

Whoever said summer break was supposed to be stress-free and fun obviously didn’t go to Cheshire Academy. Between the hours of theory and practice in the required courses and the hours working on the end-of-summer show piece during their _free_ time, Louis doesn’t know how he has the time or energy to have a complicated love life.

Not that he _loves_ Nick, good god. But the back and forth between them is giving Louis a complex and he doesn’t have time to worry about that on top of everything else in his life.

It’s two weeks till the end-of-summer show and Louis is freaking out. His producer is still not speaking to him - _with good reason_ , he thinks as he remembers how stupid he was - and his mates are slowly starting to realize that something has happened. They’ve been giving him looks every time Louis tenses up when Nick walks into the room and ask him if he’s alright when Nick is obnoxiously flirty with Douglas _right in front of him_.

He knows he fucked up. He _knows._

And he knows he has to apologize but he just can’t seem to find the right words or the right moment to do it. Nick wants him to explain his _feelings_ but Louis doesn’t really know how. Out of the lads, Louis is the least likely to talk about how he feels or what’s going on in his head unless it’s through his music. He thought Nick understood that in the weeks they spent together writing and sharing some of their work but maybe he got it wrong. But there was a moment last time he spoke to Nick, that soft smile as he walked away, that made Louis build up a tiny ball of hope in his chest that maybe he didn’t muck it up too badly.

The lads have finally reconvened by the lake-pond for a much needed smoke and so far Harry hasn’t taken his kit off. Louis’ sitting cross legged with his notebook balanced on one thigh and humming out the beat to the song for the boys to hear before he begins to sing the opening verse. Liam’s the only one to get his notebook out, already scribbling down notes for Louis’ song. Zayn and Niall are bobbing their heads slowly while Louis lets the weed take over his nerves and he sings a bit more firmly, pausing to tell the lads which lines they’ll be singing and where they’ll hum instead of playing the instruments.

When he’s finished, he lights up another spliff and takes a heavy toke to prepare for the onslaught of commentary that is about to come. Zayn slaps a hand on his shoulder to take the spliff from him and Louis lets him grab it. With nothing to occupy his hands as he waits, Louis runs them through his hair.

“It’s not good yet, alright lads, I just need to--” Louis starts, trying to defend himself before they can speak.

“It’s perfect, Lou.” Harry cuts in. It almost surprises Louis because Harry hasn’t spoken for the last few minutes but now he’s looking straight at Louis like he understands completely. Before he can ask Harry what it is he understands, Niall and Liam start clapping and Zayn hands him back the spliff and they all try and talk at once about how this is going to be the best performance yet.

“Who’s it for?” Niall asks innocently, eyes glazing over as the weed settles in his bones. The blond falls down on his back into the grassy lake-pondside, arms spread wide as if making snow angels. “Something that pretty can’t be written for nowt, Lou.”

Louis avoids looking at the other lads, sliding his hands through the thin blades of grass around him.  He tries not to think about Nick but his wretched brain betrays him and he has to blink rapidly before the stinging behind his eyes become tears. With a put upon grin, Louis looks up at the lads.

“Well Nialler, if you must know,” he pauses and sighs dramatically. “I wrote it for yer mum.”

Niall lets out a noise and gets up to tackle Louis into the grass as Liam and Zayn cackle, not coming to Louis’ aid at all. He doesn’t know where Harry is and he hopes to hell that the boy hasn’t already jumped into the water because they’ve only just got a buzz going. Niall stops trying to maul him and they end up sprawled on the grass, Niall’s head tucked into the curve of Louis’ neck. They lay there for a moment, taking in the warm summer air and it hits Louis that this is going to be one of the last times he does this with his boys. Liam clears his throat and brings Louis back to the present.

“Overall, Lou, the song is fantastic.” Liam starts. Louis doesn’t move, not wanting to dislodge Niall who has most likely fallen asleep. “There’s a couple of moments where I think we could add some more instruments over the piano that could work but other than that, it’s bang on.”

Louis turns his head slightly to catch Liam’s eye. Liam knows how much pressure Louis puts on himself at camp, especially when it comes to his writing, so he smiles softly at his mate before dropping his head back onto the grass.

“Thanks, Li. Zayner, any thoughts?”

A hand clamps on his shoulder and he hears Zayn say, “You know I think everything you write is ace, mate. Could add a bit of an R&B remix to it later yeah? Pop it in for the end-of-camp party, get everyone pumped!”

Liam starts at that and the two begin talking about what to add for the playlist since they always do the playlist for the bash after the concert. He leaves them be and slowly slides Niall off his chest and gently onto the grass, sitting up and looking around for Harry.

“You seen where H has gone off to?” Louis asks Liam and Zayn.

The other boys shrug and mutter something about the lake and Louis hopes he’s not going to have to fish Harry out on his own. He leaves his stuff there and strolls along the water’s edge, brushing his soft fringe off his face and looking out for Harry. He spots him a little bit further down, sitting by a tree with his legs folded and his head on his knees.

“H,” Louis calls out as he makes his way over to Harry. “Thought you’d’ve tossed yer kit off by now.”

He sees Harry smile a little and plops down beside him, shoulder bumping his in hello. Harry looks at him for a long time, not saying a word and it starts to make Louis itch a little under his skin.

“What is it, Haz?”

“I’m not sure if it’s the weed or what but it’s finally just hit me that after the next couple of weeks, we won’t be coming back here.”

Louis inhales sharply. Leave it to Harry to voice the thoughts Louis is desperately trying to push to the back of his mind.

“It just always felt like the Academy would be here at the end of the day, ya know?” He continues, turning a little to look at Louis. “Like no matter how shit college was going or how lonely Holmes Chapel felt, I always knew I’d come back to the Academy and you lads. Now what’re we going to do?”

Louis doesn’t really know what to say. Hasn’t he been asking himself the same question all summer long? Where will they stand after the concert is over and they’ve all had their chance? He rubs a hand over his face, the weed making him overly sensitive, he tells himself as he wipes away a tear. Louis wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulders and clears his throat, hoping Harry won’t notice he almost started to cry.

“We’re going to get our A-Level results, get into the same uni or at least ones close enough that we can visit constantly, and dazzle the world of course.

“You’ll finally finish learning the guitar,” Harry interrupts Louis with a choked laugh and a nudge. “You’ll book gigs in tiny pubs and wow the crowds with that dimpled smile you’re always raving about, you won’t ever have to search for shag for the rest of your days!”

“And you?”

“Me?” Louis echoes, a smile tilting his lips upward. “I’ve never had to search for a shag, Harold. Don’t be daft.”

Harry laughs louder now, pushing Louis playfully and scrunching his face up before he swipes a hand through his hair to push it back.

“You know what I mean, wanker.”

With a huff of laughter, Louis pulls Harry in closer and leans his head to rest atop of Harry’s curls. The water in front of them laps against the sides gently and it settles the nerves buzzing under Louis’ skin for the moment. Talking to Harry has always helped so why should now be any different? Harry knows all his hopes and dreams down to the last letter, he knows what makes him nervous, he knows what makes Louis scared.

“Me,” Louis murmurs against Harry’s hair, voice only loud enough for him to hear. “I’m going to be right at your side, mate, I’ll be at uni wherever that is and we’ll record songs and make music videos and get bladdered in between classes. This isn’t the end for us, H. Not even close.”

“And Nick? Is it the end for you two?”

Louis stiffens, pulling himself away from Harry and looking anywhere but at him. He feels Harry shift to face him but Louis can’t even manage to fake a smile, let alone sufficient eye contact. Harry knows.

“I don’t really know what’s going on between you two, except that something is.” Harry says softly. “I know he seems miserable lately and you’ve been on and off with your moods but I just want you to know that whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Louis doesn’t think he can find his voice, his throat constricting as Harry speaks. He remembers to breathe and focuses on that instead of thinking of what to say to Harry. He can faintly hear Niall yelling at Liam about something but it disappears beneath the white noise in his head. He feels Harry pull him in and mutters a choppy ‘thanks’ but he’s still thinking of what Harry said and what it means after everything he’s done.

He needs to figure out a way to fix this.

\--

There are two days until the end-of-summer show and Louis is ready to yank every hair follicle out of his head. The song is done and the lads have all perfected their parts - Nick relaying his progress through Harry, who has thankfully not questioned it - but there’s still a twist of anxiousness in Louis’ gut.

What if it’s still no good?

This is it for him. He’s not like Liam or Niall, applying to universities as a backup plan, or Zayn who already has a contract lined up as soon as he graduates. He’s risking everything on this show and this song and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if nothing comes of it.

He and the lads are at one of the many parties being thrown this week and Louis tries not to think about what he was doing the last time he was in these woods. Niall shoves a can of beer into his hand and they throw it back together, the blond all smiles and good cheer in contrast to the dark cloud that Louis carries above him.

He needs to lighten up, shake off his worries for one bloody night before he worries himself sick.

“Lou! Lou!” Harry shouts from across the field, arms around Nick’s waist and a laugh on his lips. “Come ‘ere a minute!”

Louis bites his lip, fingers digging into the metal of the can as he contemplates the damage done if he goes over there. He meets Nick’s eye and the other boy doesn’t _look_ upset at Harry’s request so he downs the rest of his beer and tosses the can somewhere off to the side. Louis shoves his hands into his denim jacket pockets, the sheep lining rubbing against his jaw as he moves.

Harry’s in the middle of telling a ridiculous story of when he and Louis tried to sneak into a Fray gig in Manchester last year, the security finding them before they even got to the doors, but Louis couldn’t really focus on Hazza or any of their mates in the small group. Louis stops next to Nick and tries to engage with everyone around them but all he can focus on is the heat coming off Nick’s body which is oh-so-close to him but not close enough and Louis can’t take it anymore.

“Can we talk?” Louis murmurs, leaning into Nick’s space and hoping no one else can hear but not really caring if they do at this point.

Nick turns his head slightly, chin dipping low so he can look Louis in the eyes and he nods once after a long silence.

“I’ll meet you at the same spot in a few minutes,” Nick says, looking away and smiling over at one of his mates who is asking him a question.

Louis nods once to himself before excusing himself from the group to grab another drink, turning from the party and heading into the darker edges of the woods instead. He doesn’t really know if this is the same spot where he and Nick got off the last time but his face burns red all the same. He can remember the way he felt that night, as if nothing else mattered except Nick and his mouth and his hands and how he never wanted to feel anything else.

“Hey.”

Louis doesn’t turn around right away, his hands instinctively coming up to pat down his fringe. He swipes the tips of his fingers over his cheekbones to smooth out tightness in his skin before turning around. Louis can barely conceal the relief he feels when he sees Nick standing in front of him.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” Louis blurts out, unable to help his insecurities from slipping out.

“I said I would.”

Louis nods mindlessly, eyes wide and unable to look away from Nick. He brought him here to talk and now he hasn’t a clue what to actually say. Louis swallows and looks down at his shoes, the rubber sole of his converse catching in the dirt.

“I -uh,” Louis starts, lips clamping shut as he tries to figure out what he’s trying to tell him. He looks up at Nick and sees the other boy run a hand through his hair and all Louis wants to do is kiss him.

“Can I kiss you?” Louis is clearly not in control of what comes out of his mouth because _why the fuck did he go and say that?_

Nick’s eyes widen and he drops his hand to his side. He pauses and stares at Louis for a moment before letting out a huff of laughter and shaking his head.

“And here I thought you’d actually want to have a proper conversation, sort us out and all.” Nick replies, glaring at Louis like all he wants to do is punch him. “But no, Louis Tomlinson wants his cock sucked and I’m the only one pathetic enough to keep coming back for more no matter how many times I’m kicked down.”

Nick turns around and starts to stomp away but Louis can’t have him walk away again, can’t have this be the last thing they say to each other. He runs up to Nick and grabs his shoulder, words spilling out of his mouth without permission or guidance.

“Nick, Nick, please wait!” Louis manages to turn Nick around to face him and stares imploringly up at the boy who is resolutely not looking at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. Except I do, because I do. Want to kiss you I mean.”

Nick lets out a growl-like noise and starts to pull his arm from Louis’ grip. Louis holds on tight, jaw set.

“But that’s not _all_ I want to do with you.”

“Fancy a shag do ya?” Nick says sarcastically. “Well you’re getting naught from me tonight, Tommo, so why don’t you be a good lad and _fucking let go of me.”_

His words almost make Louis let go but he’s finally started talking and he’s not going to stop now. He pushes against Nick’s shoulder until the taller boy is facing him once more but is stubbornly refusing to look at him. Louis hates how stubborn he is.

“I hate how stubborn you are.” He repeats aloud, fingers digging into Nick’s leather jacket as he continues. “I hate that you make fun of my taste in music and that you were friends with Harry first. I hate that you always have an opinion about every single thing and that you make me feel stupid because you know so much more than I do.”

Nick looks like he’s getting angrier by the second as Louis keeps talking and he knows he’s going about this the wrong way but it’s the only way he can get it all out. He sees Nick is about to interrupt so he barrels on forward and hopes Nick understands.

“But I also love it. And you,” Louis pauses and takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

The way Nick’s face lights up in surprise is almost comical if Louis were in the mood for laughing. Instead he lets go of Nick’s jacket and slides his hand up to the nape of Nick’s neck. He feels Nick take deep breath after deep breath, eyes wide and searching Louis’. He doesn’t look away, fear tightening in his gut the longer they stand in silence but he doesn’t want to move away in case Nick thinks he doesn’t mean it.

Because he does.

He didn’t really understand that that’s what it was. He’s never been in love before. He thought he was once, with Harry during the first year they met, but he realized soon enough that while he loved Haz, he wasn’t _in love_ with him. The touches they shared were comforting but they didn’t light his skin on fire like the ones he shared with Nick. All the moments Louis would sit around thinking about Nick, even in the days where they were practically enemies, was evidence enough but then last year happened and then Rochelle put them together for the concert and it all just came barreling forward.

“Nick?” Louis speaks solely to fill the awkward silence, dropping his hand from Nick’s hair and folding his arms close against his chest. “I know I sound mad and you probably don’t even really like me all that much right now but I - ”

Louis’ long-winded speech of self-deprecation is cut short when Nick lurches forward, large hands coming up to cup Louis’ jaw, and slides his mouth over Louis’. His mouth his chapped and dry but Louis couldn’t care less because Nick is finally kissing him again and it takes everything in him not to tackle the boy to the ground in happiness, instead settling for kissing him back. The kisses are quite chaste, just their mouths moving against each other but it’s perfect.

Nick pulls away all too soon, Louis watching as his eyes slowly flutter open and Nick leans his forehead against Louis’. They’re too close to make eye-contact so Louis reaches up and encircles Nick’s wrists with his fingers to let him know he’s feeling just as overwhelmed.

“Do you mean it?” Nick finally gasps out and Louis shouldn’t be surprised by the question considering all he’s put him through but it still hurts. “All of it?”

Louis leans in again and presses a quick kiss to Nick’s mouth before leaning back, disentangling their limbs and staring into Nick’s eyes. He wants to make sure Nick is truly paying attention when he says this because he doesn’t know when he’ll have the courage to do it again.

“I know I’ve been a proper knobhead, not realizing till now and all, but if there’s anything I’m sure of these days it’s that you’ve got shite taste in music,” Louis grins cheekily, watching a small smile spread over Nick’s face, unable to help himself from pressing his thumb against the corner of his mouth. “And that I am arse over tit in love with ya anyways.”

Nick lets out a laugh, slightly hysterical and high-pitched, and shakes his head slowly. He almost looks… happy. There’s a smile growing on his lips and it spreads over his face, teeth gleaming  in the dark and he tucks his face into Louis’ neck before lifting the other boy up in his arms. Nick spins them around, a laugh vibrating against Louis’ skin and he wraps his arms around Nick’s shoulders to keep from falling.

“Nicholas, put me down or I’m taking it back!” Louis yells, a breathiness in his voice from trying not to laugh. He digs his hands into the material of his jacket as Nick finally stops moving but doesn’t let go, which Louis isn’t _too_ upset about. Nick leans back and smiles down at Louis.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Nick says, a cheeky smile on his face. “You _love_ me, no take-backs!”

Louis pouts and Nick brings him in close, the warmth of their bodies melting together. “Well, I hardly think that’s fair, innit? What if you act like a ponce and I can’t stand you any longer?”

Nick laughs again and it makes Louis’ smile grow, hearing the sound. They’re wrapped around each other like… well, like two people in love, really, and it makes his stomach do a flip. Nick brings his mouth to Louis’ ear, breath hot against his skin and whispers, laughter in his voice,

“Guess what?”

“What is it, Grimshaw?” Louis responds, putting on a huff despite the grin  on his face. Nick pulls back and smiles down at him.

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

It doesn’t take long for every single person at the Academy to figure out that Louis Tomlinson and Nick Grimshaw were _dating_. They don’t tell their mates until the next day since a majority of them were zonked last night on random pills and drink, but when they do, it’s to plenty of surprised faces.

Except Harry, of course.

“Glad you lot figured it out, then.” He says, inciting outrage from Liam, Niall, and Zayn for keeping such scandalous news from them

“It’s hardly scandalous,” Louis interjects, face turning a deep red as his hand squeezes Nick’s under the table.

“You start shagging the bloke you said was, and I quote, ‘the equivalent to a hipster’s handlebar mustache: revolting and unnecessary’.” Niall says while taking a bite of his bacon and eggs brekkie.

Louis wishes looks could kill at that moment, throwing a breakfast roll at Niall’s head and turning towards Nick, who looks appalled.

“Excuse you, Tomlinson?” Nick says, pulling away and placing a hand on his chest. “You’d be lucky to shag me, in fact!”

Louis tries to keep in a laugh, fingers pressing against his mouth at his boyfriend’s ( _boyfriend_!!!) expression of indignation and nods. He leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, “Yes, of course darling. Whatever you say.”

“Ew, they’re already at the old married couple stage!” Aimee yells from across the table, Douglas laughs as she pretends to throw up on the canteen floor.

After that, Nick and his friends join Louis and the lads  by the lake-pond for a smoke, an old tradition that they didn’t tend to share until now. It is the last week of summer camp, after all. They laze around all day since classes are officially over - the instructors had said they wanted them to use the time to practice on their pieces for the concert - even though Louis spent a good chunk of the time thinking about his piece.

“Do you think it’s going to go all right tomorrow?” Louis asks Nick, face tucked into the crook of his neck. They’re laying a little bit away from the rest of the gang but Louis keeps his voice low so no one else can hear him. He feels Nick shift a little, as if to look down at him and Louis schools his face to look as impassive as possible.

“You mean the song, bub?” Nick asks, not to be obtuse, Louis knows. It’s to get Louis to talk, to explain how he feels because he needs someone to push him and nudge the words out of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Louis breathes out. “I know it’s good. But is it good enough?”

Nick pulls Louis in close and presses a kiss to the top of his head, the sound of Niall trying to start a round of ‘ _Wonderwall_ ’ going on in the distance. Louis holds his breath as he waits for Nick to respond.

“Good enough for what, love?” He asks in response, talking slowly as he continues. “Good enough for me? Absolutely. Good enough for the scouts? Well, they’d be right idiots not to see the passion you put into it. But if you’re asking whether it’s good enough for you, I’m afraid I can’t answer that one for ya.”

When Louis lets out the breath he was holding, it comes out like a sob and Nick scrambles to meets his eye, apologizing quickly and begging Louis not to cry. He isn’t, crying, he means. The noise just escaped his lips without permission, a release of emotion because of the boy in his arms.

“I wrote it for you, ya know?” Louis says eventually, tired of keeping that secret inside. He’ll die before telling the lads because they’ll never let him live it down but he knows Nick will read that truth for what it is. His voice didn’t shake when he spoke and for that he is grateful because he wants Nick to know just how much it means.

“That must be why it’s so good then, eh?” Nick says in response, always knowing the right thing to say to stop Louis’ hands from shaking. He lets out a laugh and lays back down on Nick’s chest, revelling in the balmy day and the boy in his arms.

\--

The stage always seems a lot smaller when you’re on it than when you’re sitting in the audience. At least it does to Louis. He’s nearly bricking it, hands shaking and all, as he waits in the wings for Leigh-Anne and her girls to finish up their song. They went for an upbeat dancey number, something about girl power that makes the crowd bop their heads and Louis’ stomach flutter with nerves.

He can spot the scouts in the crowd, their sharp suits and keen eyes keeping a close watch on who they find appealing or star quality.

He feels someone come up behind him and he cranes his neck to the side a little to see Nick looking down on him. A hand goes to the small of his back and he tenses instantly before he forces his body to relax. He can do this. Be with Nick in public. It isn’t really all that different than before because they still bicker endlessly only now instead of storming off and complaining to their mates about how annoying they are, Nick and Louis usually just snog until they’re not angry anymore.

When it’s their turn to perform, Nick waits for the other lads to walk onto the stage and pulls Louis in close by their interlocked hands. He presses kisses to Louis’ skin, starting with the dip in his collarbone and stopping at the highest point of his cheekbone. The feeling of Nick’s lips on his skin settles the raging nerves in his veins and he lets out a sigh.

“Let’s go smash it, yeah?” Nick murmurs, eyes bearing into Louis’ as he smiles softly down at him.

\--

The last day of camp is always a sad affair and Louis is always one to go out in style. He’s been telling everyone that he would put together the final summer bash and he intends for it to be the only party people remember from this year. Tomorrow their parents will arrive to take them back to reality and Louis and his mates will be saying goodbye to Cheshire Academy for the last time. In true Louis Tomlinson style, he’s avoiding that finality and throwing the biggest party the Academy has ever seen because, well, because he is exceptionally and irrevocably _happy_.

Last night, Louis performed one of the best songs he’s ever written and he and the lads smashed it, the crowd agreeing if the hoots and cheers were anything to go by. He had a sheen of sweat over his skin by the end of the ballad, throat rubbed raw from his nerves and shaking hands. It helped to have his boys by his side through it all, and Nick in his peripheral with bright eyes full of pride.

When it was all said and done, the instructors thanking the crowd and the students on all their hard work, Louis felt he could breathe slightly easier. He’s done his bit, he put his heart and soul out on that stage, into that song, and they’ll either love it or hate it. Surprisingly, after the months of stressing out about the outcome of the end-of-summer concert, Louis felt pretty zen now that he was in the moment.

So when one of the scouts made their way over to him during the after-concert drinks and mingle period, Louis found himself calm and wide-eyed.

The Royal Academy of Music. Louis was going to the bloody Royal Academy! He almost didn’t believe it but Nick was at his side when the woman with the kind smile and firm handshake had offered him the position, saying they’d get in touch with Louis soon. Nick had wrapped his arms around Louis as soon as she’d left, whispering congratulations into his ear and that’s when it sunk in. He nearly bursted into tears, instead shoving his face into Nick’s shoulder and hugging him as close as possible.

Now, they’re all out by the clearing in the woods again, Louis’ mates and a bunch of people he swears he’s never seen before in his life, for the party and while there is music playing in the background, it’s lowered a bit because it’s time for The Speech.

Every end-of-summer party since they were fifteen, Harry decides to down the majority of an entire bottle of wine fairly early into the night and demands that he be the one to make the final speech. He tries to balance his gangly body on top of an old tree stump, plastic cup in hand and finger pointing out at the crowd. There are putters of laughter from those who know Harry well because they knew this was coming. Louis makes his way near the front so he can heckle Harry if need be - it’s always needed - and stands beside his mates, bumping his shoulder against Zayn’s and nodding up at Harry with a grin that says ‘What is he like?’

He sees Nick standing a little bit away, beer in hand and a small smile on his face as he listens to whatever Daisy is saying. Nick flicks his gaze over to Louis and waves, fingers dangling in the air, almost identical to the wave he gave Louis at the start of term. Louis sticks out his tongue at him before turning back towards Harry and giving his best friend a supportive thumbs up even though he knows it will all go tits up in about five minutes.

Harry clears his throat loudly but no one really hears so Louis and Zayn turn around, shouting “Oi, you lot listen up!”

The chatter quiets down to a murmur and Harry smiles at them before raising his cup, prompting the rest of them to follow suit as if they’re guests at a wedding or summat.

"Well we’ve -- ” Harry cuts off, giggling to himself a little before gathering his wits. Louis rolls his eyes and makes a motion with his hand for Harry to get on with it.

“Well, we've made it to the end of the summer in one piece,” Harry starts, a cheeky grin spreading on his face and exposing his dimples. “Except for a few campers who are lepers."

Louis almost wants to laugh but he narrows his eyes instead and repressing a loud groan. Harry’s green eyes meet Louis’ glare and he lets out a giant guffaw, folding over as Louis continues to shake his head. Everyone else looks confused but Louis knows exactly what movie Harry is quoting.

“Seriously Hazza I’m deleting that movie off your laptop right this second, I swear to god.” He screams up at him, shaking his head,

Everyone around them looks confused but Harry soldiers on, because when has that ever stopped him?

“It’s been a mental time with you lot and I just want to say thank you. Thank you for making summer hols wicked, with the coolest parties - ”

He pauses to point at Jesy, who lets out a loud whoop and inciting a crazy round of applause from everyone, because let’s face it? Jesy throws the best parties in the whole of Cheshire Academy history.

“And with the most talented bunch of geezers I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know. Let’s celebrate tonight because we are young and wild and if any of you wanna smear mud on your ass, smear mud on your ass - ooft!”

Louis had warned Harry ages ago that if he kept pushing quotes from that movie into his speeches, he was going to tackle him down. Now, Louis’ got a mouthful of Harry’s curls and the younger boy’s elbows in his ribs. There’s a cheer from the crowd - probably because Louis finally shut Harry up - and then a solid weight is on top of Louis’ back nearly knocking the breath out of him. He hears Niall yell something unintelligible in his ear and then there’s another body on top of the pile and another and another.

The music roars back to life and Louis manages to roll out and away from the pile of limbs and laughter, stopping on his back in the grass, looking up at the dark sky. His view is blocked immediately by the smiling face of his boyfriend. _Boyfriend_ , how weird.

“All right, Grimshaw?” He asks, thrusting an arm out for Nick to yank him up. He presses a kiss on Nick’s mouth the minute he’s vertical and flushes when Aimee makes a retching sound beside them.

“Oi, shut it Aims.” Nick flings over his shoulder at her, smiling down at Louis all the while. “Wanna ditch these losers and go for a cheeky snog in the woods?”

“We are not fucking against a tree again, Nicholas.” Louis says with a laugh, not paying any mind to his mates finally joining them.

“Wait, _again_?” Niall sputters, beer dribbling down his chin as he swings an arm around Louis’ neck. Louis shakes the blond off and moves closer to Nick, entwining their fingers and leaving Niall appalled and curious.

Louis laughs at the look on his face and yanks Nick towards their spot in the clearing, smirking dirtily at his mates as they cat-call and wolf whistle until they’re out of sight.

“Are we really going to shag in the woods?” Nick asks, disbelief and mild arousal colouring his words.

“No, you twat,” Louis responds, smiling at Nick coyly before continuing. “We’re finding a proper bed, with pillows and shite because the last time I found leaves in my bloody pants.”

\--

Later on, when orgasms have been shared and drinks have been had, the main group of them all sit by the small bonfire they’ve built, enjoying the silence of their last moments within the grounds of the Academy. Louis grins at his mates and presses into Nick’s side. They haven’t discussed what’s going to happen once they leave the Academy but he’s not as worried about it as he was at the start of summer. Liam and Zayn are going on a gap year, travelling the world or summat together, Niall is heading back home to Ireland to study music at university, and Harry, well Harry’s following Louis to London. He didn’t get into the Royal Academy with Louis, which put a slight damper on their plans, but Goldsmiths isn’t _too_ far away that they could still cling to each other’s sides.

As for him and Nick, well Louis’ even more unsure about how that’s going to go. Nick had apparently applied for a Fall internship at the BBC at the start of summer and is awaiting the call to see if he’s got it. Louis’ trying not to get his hopes up but secretly, he’s bursting with the possibilities of him and Nick exploring London together and isn’t that a fucking laugh? Sometimes, when Louis looks at himself in the mirror he almost doesn’t recognize this Louis with the one from the start of term.

This Louis is more relaxed and smiles more, it seems this Louis has realized something the old one hadn’t yet. The safe haven that Cheshire Academy is or was isn’t tied down to the camp itself but to the group of people around him at this very moment and Louis knows that as long as they’re together, things might turn out alright.


End file.
